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TI-IE CAMP, 



BATTLE FIELD, 



HOSPITAL 



OR, 



LIGHTS AND SHADOWS 



GRE^T REBELLIOISr. 



INCLUDING ADVENTURES OF SPIES AND SCOUTS, THRILLING 

INCIDENTS, DARING EXPLOITS, HEROIC DEEDS, WONDERFUL 

ESCAPES, SANITARY AND liOSPITAL SCENES, 

PRISON SCENES, ETC., ETC., ETC. 



BY I3II. L. P. BB-OCKETT, 

AI-IIUT. .IF ''OUR ORBAT CAPTAINS," "PHILANTHROPIC RESULTS OP TUB WAR," 'ililFrTJT' 
.«UKAHAM LINCOLN," "HISTORY OF THE CIVIL WAR IN THE UNITED STATES," KTO;, 5Tt(. » • 



SPLENDIDLY ILLUSTRATED -^__ 

W:iH OVER 100 FINE PORTRAITS AND BEAUTIFUL ENGRAVINGS, 




NATIONAL PUBLISHING COMPANY. 

1'11IL.\DELPHIA, Pa., CHICAGO, 111., and St. LOUIS, Mo. 

S. F. JUNKIN & CO., 

CINCINNATI, Ohio. 

C. C. EAYMOND & CO. 

IMIILADELPHIA, Pa. 

NEW ENGL AN J) PUBLISHING COMPANY. 

noSTON, .Mass. 



PREFACE. 



This book, friendly reader, was not created ; like Topsy, " it 
growed." The author or compiler, whichever term you may 
choose to give him, had for four years past been a not uninter- 
ested observer of the great struggle, whicli it had been liis duty 
elsewhere to chronicle. In his researches into the causes and 
events of the war, its fearful battles, its alternations of liglit and 
shadow, its changes of policy, and its final and glorious triumphs, 
he had had abundant occasion to notice those personal achieve- 
ments, those noble sacrifices, and that fearless devotion to the 
national cause whicli have so greatly distinguished this conflict. 
In the pages of a history of the war, such narratives and 
incidents could find no place; yet it seemed unjust to the great 
souls who had laid every thing upon their country's altar, with- 
out a murmur or a sigh, that their glorious sacrifices should 
not be held in grateful remembrance ; and it was from the 
desire to do some justice to their memory, that at an early 
day the writer commenced, at first for his own private read- 
ing merely, the collection of narratives and incidents of per- 
sonal adventure and sacrifice in the war. Some of these were 
found in print, in books, periodicals, and newspapers; others 
were preserved in the annals or reports of charitable institu- 
tions, like the Sanitary and Christian Commissions ; a few had 
found record from a poet's pen, and a considerable number, 

(5) 



b PREFACE. 

tliough matters of oral tradition, had never appeared in print 
but were gleaned from the narrations of the parties themselves, 
or their friends. The garnering of these was a work of great 
delight to the writer, and as time passed on he felt desirous 
that others should share the pleasure he had enjoyed, in the 
perusal of the heroic deeds of his countrymen and country- 
women ; and so the book grew into such form and symmetry 
as it now possesses. In the hands of the American public he 
leaves it, with the conviction that they will be lenient to any 
faults they may observe in it, and will appreciate his honest 
and pains-taking endeavor to present to them a record of some 
of the personal adventures and incidents of the war. 

L. P. B. 
Brooldyn, N. Y., May, 1866. 



This work will be beautifully illustrated with groups 
of the following Naval and Military Heroes, distin- 
guished civilians, prominent Rebel Generals ; and will 
contain an elegant full-page steel portrait of Lieutenant- 
General Grant, besides numerous fine engravings of 
battle-scenes, etc. 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



I=OK.TS.-A.ITS 



1. 


LIKUT. 


-GEN. GRANT, FRONTISPIECE. 


26. 


GENERAL SYKE3. 


•2. 


GENERAL MEADE. 


27. 


GILLMORE. 


S. 


" 


HANCOCK. 


28. 


>VALLACE. 


4. 


" 


WARREN. 


29. 


GARFIELD. 


5. 


" 


WRIGHT. 


SO. 


SCHOFIELD. 


6. 


" 


"BALDY" SMITH. 


31. 


SHERIDAN. 


7. 


" 


SICKLES. 


32. 


KILPA TRICK 


8. 


" 


HEINTZELMAN. 


33. 


CUSTER 


9. 


" 


SHERMAN. 


34. 


BUPORD 


10. 


" 


ROSECRANS. 


35. 


MERRITT 


11. 


" 


LOGAN. 


36. 


AVERILL 


12. 


" 


HOWAliD. 


37. 


TORBERT. • 


13. 


" 


SLOCUM. 


38. 


SEDGWICK. 


14. 


« 


ROBERT McCOOK. 


39. 


Mcpherson. 


15. 


" 


McCLEKNAND. 


40. 


REYNOLDS. 


16. 


LIEUTENANT-GENERAL SCOTT. 


41. 


WADSWORTH. 


17. 


GENERAL IIALLECK. 


42. 


SUMNER. 


IS. 


" 


DIX. 


43. 


KEARNEY. 


19. 


" 


CASEY. 


44. 


LYON 


20. 


" 


FRANKLIN. 


45. 


BIRNEY. 


21. 


" 


BUELL. 


46. 


MITCHELL. 


22. 


" 


SHIELDS. 


47. 


RENO. 


23. 


" 


McCLELLAN. 


48. 


GRIERSON 


24. 


" 


FOSTER. 


49. 


ROUSSEAU. 


26. 


" 


TERRY. 


50. 


WILSON. 



(7) 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



51. GENERAL KAUTZ. 
62. " STONKMAN. 

53. " TLKASONTON. 

64. " GREGG. 

55. VICE ADMIRAL FARRAGUT. 

56. REAR " PORTER. 
fT. " " FOOTE. 

58. " " DUPONT. 

59. " " DAIILGUEN. 

60. " " GOIiDSBOROUGlI. 

61. COMMODORE WINSLOW. 

6-'. LIEUTENANT-COMMANDER CUSIIINQ. 
iiZ. GENERAL R. E. LEE. 
64. " " STONEWALL" JACKSON. 

66. " EWELL. 



66. GENERAL REAUKEGARD. 

67. " LONG STREET. 
6S. " BRECKINRIDGE. 
CO. " A. P. HILL. 

70. " FITZHUGII LEE. 

71. COLONEL MOSBY. 

72. GENERAL JOSEPH E. JOHNSTON. 

73. " HOOD. 

74. " BRAGG. 

75. LIEUT.-GEN. KIRBY SMITH. 

76. MAJOR-GENERAL PRICE. 

77. " A. S. JOHNSON. 

78. " HARDEE. 

79. " FORREST. 

SO. " JOHN MORGVN. 



B A. T T Xj E S 

81. BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 

82. CAITURE OF LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN. 

83. BATTLE OF CIIAPIN'S FARM. 

84. SURRENDER OF GENERAL LEE. 

85. INTERVIEW BETWEEN GENER.\LS 

SHERMAN AND JOHNSTON. 

86. THE SCOUT. 

87. PRISONERS' CAMP AT ANDERSON- 

VILLE, GEORGIA. 
8i. THE GREAT RAILROAD RAID. 

89. OBSTRUCTING THE TRAIN. 

90. MRS. BICKERDYKE AND TlIK tN- 

faitjifCl surgeon. 

al. MRS. BICKERDYKE USES HER 
dresses FOR THE UNION SOLDIERS. 

9i. UNION SOLDIERS PURSUED BY 
BLOODHOUNDS. 



CEiTES, ETC. 

93. THE FIRST TENNESSEE CAVALRY 

ESCORTING REBEL PRISONERS. 

94. THE LEAP FOR LIFE. 

95. THE PRICE OF LOYALTY IN E.A.ST 

TENNESSEE. 
96. PARSON BROWNLOW'S DAUGHTER 
AND THE REBEL SOLDIERS. 

97. THE SCOUT AND THE BLOODHOUND. 

98. OLD BRADLEY AND HIS DAUGHTER. 

99. BRINGING HOME THE COWS. 

100. OLD BURNS, THE HERO OF GETTYS- 

BURG. 

101. THE RESCUE. s 

102. THE COUNTRY MUST BE SAVED IF 

IT TAKES EVERY CHICKEN IN 
THE CONFEDERACY. 



CONTENTS. 



PAET I. 

NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

PASS 

Moore and Blue, the Kansas Scouts 11 

A Nameless Spy 26 

Corporal Pike, Scout and Ranger 34 

A Female Scout and Spy 66 

Adventures of Harry Newcomer, a Scout and Spy in the Army of 

the Cumberland > 73 

Pauline Cushman, the Celebrated Union Spy and Scout of the 

Army of the Cumberland 100 

Keller or Killdare, one of the Scouts of the Army of the Cumberland. 131 

A Daring Scout and Spy 142 

Scouting in East Tennessee 157 

Bible Smith, the East Tennessee Scout and Spy. 165 



PAET II. 

DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

The Great Railroad Chase 191 

The Wrong Side of the Curve. An Ex-engineer's Story 204 

Zagonyi's Charge 210 

The Passage of the Port Hudson Batteries. 224 

Running the Batteries at Vicksburg 235 

The Cavalry Fight at Brandy Station 241 

The Capture of Mission Ridge 249 

Sheridan at Middlctown 267 

Narrative of Captain John F. Porter. Jr., Fourteenth New York 

Cavalry — Particulars of his Escape 280 

How the Prisoners escaped from the Richmond Jail — Incredible 

Underground Work — Friendship of Virginia Negroes 285 

(9) 



1 CONTENTS. 

PART III. 
INCIDENTS OF ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

PASS 

Mother Kickerdyke, " The Soldiers' Friend" 293 

The Death of John, the West Virginia Blacksmith 804 

Robinson, the Wounded .Soldier Ci6 

Rachel SornerH, the Noble Mother ool 

The Soldiers' (Juardian Angel HcS 

A Heroine and Martyr £46 

'I'he Farmer's Contribution to the Chicago Sanitary Fair o56 

The Vicksburg Scow. A Ballad 363 

Miss Mclvina Stevens, the East Tennessee Heroine C6o 

Somebody's Darling £67 

Rallying a Flying Brigade 868 

-Night Scone in a Hosi)itul S70f 

How the Soldiers "Took their Ease in their Inn" o73 

Incidents of Grierson's Raid «^T3 

Foraging o77 

..Adventure of a Spy. S89 

The Religious Sentiment in the Armjf 094 

Parson Brownlow's Daughter and the Rebel Soldiers £97 

(General Banks and the Military Speculators B93 

A Woman's Pluck and Patriotism 400 

(Jiving for the Wounded Soldiers 401' 

Morgan's Men and the Secessionists 414 

My Captvire and Escaj)e from Mosby 411) 

The Horse Marine's Story 43.5 

The Contrabands in the War 444 

A Good Use of Roman C'andles 454 



PART lY. 

DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-S.ACRIFICE. 

The Fight with the "Albemarle" 4.59 

The Destruction of the "Albemarle" 469 

Hetty McEwen. An Incident of the Occupation of Nashville 473 

General Sumner at Fair Oaks 477 

" Old Bradley." the Tennessee Blacksmith 4S0 

Driving Home the Cows 492 

The Ivoyalty of a Charleston Woman 4it-l 

Colonel Irmis, or " We Don't Surrender Much" 4;»T 

The Ballad of Ishmael Day 499 

Old Burns, the Hero of Gettysburg /LU 

( 'ondiict of the Colored Troops f'On 

General Ransom, in the Assault on Vicksburg * oil 



-jpj^Tiro X 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 



MOORE AND BLUE, 

THE KANSAS SCOUTS. 



The border ruffian warfare, which had been waged 
for several years in Kansas and Western Missouri, before 
the rebellion, was admirably calculated to train up num- 
bers of daring, adventurous spirits, to whom life would 
be altogether too tame, unless there were dangers to 
face, foes to outwit, and hazards to run. Among these, 
few have led lives of more extraordinary danger and 
laAvless adventure, and at the same time made interest- 
ing by a more firm and enduring friendship, than the 
two young scouts whose history we sketch from the 
annals of the Army of the Cumberland. 

In 1856, two young men — Frank M. Blue, formerly 
of Michigan, but now from Illinois, and Henry W. 
Moore, of Brooklyn, N. Y., met in Leavenworth City, 
Kansas, whither they had come for the purpose of pre- 
empting land in that territory. Taking a fancy for 
each other, they set out for the interior in company. 
At Ossawatamie they met John Brown, joined him in 
scouting after border ruffians, and participated in the 
fight at Hickory Point, where Brown, his son, and 

11 



12 NARRATIVES OF SBES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIYES. 

t^Yonty-seven men, routed forty of them strongly posted 
ill a blacksmith's shop, by backing up against it a load 
ol' hay, and burning them out. Leaving Brown, they 
next went to Jonnison'8 camp at Mound City, wliich 
was made in such a shape as to resemble a group of 
hay-stacks. While here, they, in company with eight 
others, crossed the Missouri river, surprised the town 
ol' Rushville, capturing thirty border ruffians and a 
number of the citizens, broke their guns, and carried 
av.ay their horses, money, watches, etc. Afterward they 
joined the Utah Expedition, under General A. S. John- 
slon, and with it went through to Salt Lake City. 
1 weaving there on their own responsibility, the fame of 
the Mexican silver mines attracted them to Peubla. 
where they remained four months, in company with a 
mixed crowd of miners, Lidians. and Mexican peons. 
Having accumulated a considerable amount of silver, 
the spirit of adventure led them to Santa Fe, where, 
some of the party getting themselves into a difficulty, 
a hasty flight northward became necessary. Procuring 
a Mexican boro (jackass), and loading him with a few 
crackers and their personal effects, they set out for Fort 
Union, one hundred miles distant. Here they procured 
a nude, and crossed over to Bent's Fort, where they 
joined the Kiowa Expedition, under Major Sedgwick. 
Returning from this, they proceeded to Camp Floyd, 
and thence across Kiowa Pass to Pike's Peak, Avhere 
they ''jumped" a claim, and went to mining. Here 
they spent the summer, and in the fall hired to Joe 
Doyle, a Mexican trader and ranchero, to go down the 
Waifoma river and ovei*see his peons and take charge 
of his herds. Remaining all winter on his ranch, they 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 13 

went again next spring to Leavenworth, and hired as 
riders to the California Overland Express Company, in 
which business they remained, until the outbreak of the 
rebellion. 

With the prospect of active service, they could not 
stand idly by and see others engaged, and accordingly 
recruited ten men, with whom they joined Captain 
William Cleaveland's independent company for the de- 
fence of the Kansas border. Their first exploit was a 
dash into De Kalb, Missouri, where they captured twelve 
or fourteen prisoners and forty horses and mules. A 
large party, however, pursued them, overtook and cap- 
tured them at Atkinson's ferry, carried them to St. 
Joseph, and lodged them in jail. The good people of 
St. Joseph were very anxious to have them tried and 
sent to the penitentiary at once ; but there was no court 
in session, and the only recourse was to lock them up in 
the jail, where they did not remain long. The guard 
was made drunk with drugged whiskey, the negro cook 
was bribed with a twenty dollar gold piece to steal the 
keys from the jailer, the door was unlocked at mid- 
night, and the whole party walked out just ten da,ys 
after they had been incarcerated. One John Seelover, 
a friend, had a skiff near at hand to cross them over the 
river, and a conveyance on the other side to take them 
to Atchison the same night. The next night, nothing 
daunted hy their recent jail experience, the same party 
crossed in a flat boat to Missouri, captured from the rebel 
farmers horses enough to mount themselves, and returned 
again, after giving the people thereabouts a good scare. 
The evening following, a negro came to their head- 
quarters at Pardee, eight miles from Atchison, and said 



14 NAKRATIVES OF SPIES. SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

(liat his wbol master. John Wells hv luiine, and livins]: 
t^Yelve miles south of St. Joseph, ^vas to leave the next 
morning for Price's arniv with two wagon loads of goods 
and a eoilin full of arms. The eompany started over 
immediately, the negro acting as guide. The rebel was 
found, and so were the goods, consisting of bacon. Hour, 
sugar, coifee. tobacco, whiskey, powder, and lead, but no 
arms. Demand was made lor the latter, but the pns- 
oncr denied having any. A lariat was then thrown 
over his neck, and drawn tight for a few minutes, when 
ho disclosed their place of concealment — a newly-made 
ijfrave. with head and footboard — in which were found 
twenty stands of arms of all kinds, and a box of pistols, 
all ot' which were taken to Fort Leavenworth, and 
tiH'ned over to the United States Government. 

Many other expeditious were made, until Oleaveland 
and his band were known and feared all over that 
country. On one oi^ these, it was ascertained that Major 
Hart, of Price's army, was at his home, lirteen miles 
from Weston. Nvith ten men. The company immedi- 
ately set forth to capture them, a woman — Mrs. Chandler 
— acting as guide. The Major, his men, and the stock 
on his farm were taken and carried to Geary City, 
Kansas, where the stock was just put away and twelve 
men lett as a guard over the prisoners, Avhen forty Mis- 
soiu'iaus rode up and demanded their surrender. Chand- 
ler, who stood in the jHnvh. said they would never sur- 
ix'nder — when he was shot dead, eleven bullets being 
Ibuud in his body. His wife and the remainder liivd 
from the house, and picked them otf so fast, that they 
were compelled to retire to Fort Leavenworth, eight 
miles distant, whence they brought up a company of the 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 15 

First Missouri Cavalry, under Captain Fuller, to their 
assistance, and finally succeeded in capturing the little 
garrison. They were taken to the fort, and, no one 
appearing against them, were speedily released by Major 
Prince, of the U. S. Regulars, commanding the post. 
Not long after this, Moore, Blue, William Tuff, of Bal- 
timore, and Cleaveland, dashed into Kansas City, and 
levied a contribution of some thirty-three hundred dollars 
in coin upon two secession bankers who had re])el flags 
flying at their windows. They were pursued, but made 
their escape, divided the money equally, and all four 
went to Chicago to spend it, which they did most 
liberally ; and in June, 1861, returned to Leavenworth. 
Here Moore and Blue, who had become fast friends, 
separated ; the latter going into Missouri on several jay- 
hawking expeditions, and the former acting as guide to 
General Sturgis, and participating in the battles of Dug 
Spring and Wilson Creek. Moore relates many interest- 
ing adventures which befell him while thus engaged, of 
which, one is here given as an illustration of his shrewd- 
ness and foresight. Having been sent by General Lyon 
to ascertain about certain guerillas that were lurking 
about the country, he dressed himself in butternut uni- 
form, and set out. Thinking, however, that he might 
be captured on the trip, he determined to avail himself 
of a trick he had somewhere read of; which was, to 
take a large minie ball, cut the top off, hollow it out, 
and then take the other part and make of it a screw to 
fit on again, thus forming a kind of little box. He then 
took a piece of parchment paper, and writing on it, in a 
peculiar hand, a commission in the secret service of the 
Confederate army, and signing to it the name of General 



IG NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

VricQ. enclosed it in the bullet, screwed it up, and started 
on again. lie had gone but ii little way when, sure 
enougli, he IMI into the himds of Sy Gordon's guerilla 
band, who proposed hanging him at once. Gordon told 
him he had orders to hang all such suspicious characters 
as he was, and that he should do it. • Moore replied that 
he had very little to say, but ho wished he would do 
him the lavor to take that bullet to General Price after 
he had hung him. Gordon seemed much amused at so 
triiling a request, and said to his prisoner that he must 
Ik* either crazy or a fool. AVhen informed that there 
Ava« nioiv about the bullet than he had any idea of, he 
insisted that he should be shown Avhat it was ; but 
Moo'v refused, saying that he was sworn to say nothing 
about it. Gordon was nonplussed for a while, but, ex- 
amining the bullet very closel};, soon saw the trick, un- 
screwed the top, and took out and read the contents. 
Turniuii; to Moore, he told him he was '' all riiiht," and 
furnished him with a better horse than he then had. on 
which he at once started buck. On arriving at camp, 
lie related his adventure, whereupon a body of cavalry 
was sent out in pursuit, and the next day succeeded in 
capturing a number oi^ the band. 

Late in the fall. ^loore and Blue again met in Leaven- 
worth, and both went toward Springfield as guides and 
spies for Lane and Sturgis's commands. On Christmas 
day, hoi\\ were sent by General Steele into Price's camp, 
whither they went, and returned on January od, 1S62. 
Four miles from AVai-saw, they found Christmas was 
b.^insi; celel^rated bv a ball, at which nianv rebel officers 
were present. In company with some rebel teamsters, 
^\ey devised a plan to scare these officers off. and seciux? 



NARRATIVES OF SPIKS, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. IT 

to themselves the liekl and the girls, by rushing up to 
the house and shouting, at the top of their voiees, 
^' The Feds are coming! the Feds are coming!" The 
plan worked admirably : the officers rushed away in hot 
haste — one even falling into the well — and our plotters 
were left in full possession of the premises. Coming 
back to Sedalia, they were engaged by Colonel Weir as 
guides. Going ahead one day to select a camping ground, 
they came to a house where was a man very hospitably 
inclined, asking them to stop, put up their horses and 
feed them with corn, of which he had plenty. Repre- 
senting that they had been pressed into the service, but 
were in heart with the rebels, their entertainer grew 
confidential, and told them something about himself — 
that he acted as a spy, carried despatches wrapped in a 
cigar, etc. The information thus obtained from him, 
contributed to the capture, by General Pope, at Black- 
water, of thirteen hundred rebels, with all their equip- 
ments. They accompanied General Pope on his expedi- 
tion to Warrensburg, where he captured Colonel Parke's 
rebel force ; and then returned to Kansas, where they 
jayhawked for a month or two. Going again to Mis- 
souri, they learned that Quantrell's guerilla band was in 
the vicinity of Independence. With eleven comrades, 
they went there, captured the town, quartered themselves 
in the court house, and badly frightened the people, who 
thought, of course, that they were only the advance- 
guard of a larger body behind. Quantrell soon came 
into the place with fortj'-five men, and demanded their 
surrender. This was refused, and a skirmish commenced, 
the occupants of the court house firing out of the doors 
and windows, and finally succeeded in dispersing the 



18 NAKUATIVKS OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

bosiogors. \\\\o went oil" lor ivinroiveiuonts. The thirteen 
now thought it best to retire, wliieh tliey did, skirmish- 
ing tor one and a hulf mik^s to a stone lenee, when the 
gueriUas nioiinteik The javhawkers now ensconced 
themselves behind the lenee. Holding their position 
nntil dusk, they then scattered, having killed live and 
wounded seven of the guerillas. Pursuit was made by 
the latter; but the darkness enabled them to escape, 
and thev soon put an ellectual end to it by cutting the 
telegraph wire, and stretching it across the road Irom 
fence to fence. 

The twain now joined Generals Curtis and Sigel as 
couriers, and nnide several dangerous trips between the 
army and KoUa, carrying despatches each way, on one 
of which Blue was taken prisoner and held as such for 
six weeks. Both accompanied General Curtis in his 
terrible nuuvh through Arkansas to Helena, and met 
with many stirring adventures by the way. One day 
while they were riding in company with Newton Bine, 
a brother of Frank and also a scout, they came suddenly 
upon live rebels in a lane, with whom they stopped and 
talked tor smne time, representing themselves as Southern 
men. The rebels soon heard a bugle behind them, how- 
ever, and, suspecting all was not right, nn\de a charge 
upon our scouts, who killed three of them and captured 
their horses, the renniining two falling into the hands of 
the Federal advance. At Helena they engaged in buying 
cotton for the speculators, and in one of their excur- 
sions were captured by the guerillas. Pretending to be 
rebels, they joined a |X)rtion of Jelf Thonipson's gang, 
and, remaining with them eleven days, obtained much 
infonnation concerning him. Having had enough of 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 19 

guerilla life, they planiied an escape, in this wise. An 
old negro, of whom they knew, was just going into 
Helena with a load of cotton for sale. By him they 
sent word to General Steele of an arrangement which 
had been made to rob him on his return of the proceeds 
of the cotton. The message was carried and delivered 
iiiithfulty, and on his way back the negro was robbed, 
as proposed, of his eleven hundred dollars in greenbacks, 
which were found hidden away in his boots; but just as 
the thirty-one guerillas were dividing the spoils, the 
second battalion of the first Missouri Cavalry came up 
and captured the whole party, all of whom were subse- 
quently sent to St. Louis as prisoners. 

From Helena Moore and Blue next went to Columbia, 
and then to Corinth, where they detected and arrested 
two counterfeiters, making a great haul of counterfeit 
St. Louis city treasury warrants and gold dollars, both 
of which were well executed. Accompanying Colonel 
Truesdail's police force to Louisville, they there played 
the rebel, and liunted out Palmer and Estes, who burned 
the ammunition steamers at Columbus and were after- 
ward sent to Camp Chase. With our army they came 
on to Nashville, and afterward ran as mail messengers^ 
a very dangerous service. Getting on the track of a 
band of guerillas between Bowling Green and Nash- 
ville, they piloted a cavalry force to the neighborhood, 
and captured a considerable number, who were brought 
to Nashville and were properly dealt with. They next 
made a successful spy trip to Murfreesboro, going by 
way of Lavergne and crossing at Sanders' Ferry. Dr. 
Goodwin, of the rebel army, whom they had fallen in 
with on the way, vouched for them, and they passed 



20 NAERATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

the pickets into the town readily enough. Once in, 
they made the circuit of the town and camps, obtaining 
all the information they could, and then began to think 
of getting back. It was arranged that Moore should go 
to Chattanooga for further observation, Avhile Blue would 
return to Nashville and report what they had already 
seen and heard. With this understanding, both went 
at once to the provost-niarshars office for passes. At 
that time Captain Williams was provost-marshal, whom 
they found somewhat crabbed and chary of w^ords. 
Making known their wants, they were saluted in this 
manner : — 

"• Want a pass to Chattanooga, do you? Lots of 
people in that fix. What d'ye want to go there for ?" 

'' We want to join Jack Jones's cavahy company," 
replied Moore, at a venture, who had heard of such a 
company. 

'• If that's all you want, you needn't go to Chatta- 
nooga for it. Jones and his company are here now." 

This was a new and not pleasing phase of affairs ; and, 
to add to their difficulty, Captain Brenton called Jones 
in at once, and told him here were two men who wished 
to join his company, and he'd better have them sworn 
in right away. Fairlj' caught in their own trap, there 
was no escape, and, trusting the future to good luck, 
they yielded to their fate, and were sworn in. Three 
days afterward, they with three others were detailed to 
^uty on the second picket line, and determined to take 
■advantage of this opportunity and make their escape. 
Some distance from their station was a house where 
whiskey could be obtained at exorbitant prices; and 
Moore and Blue proposed to their companions that if 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 21 

they would go and get the whiskey they would pay for 
it, and guard the post during their absence. This was 
agreed to ; and the whiskey seekers were hardly out of 
sight when our two scouts rode off in hot haste to the 
outer pickets, two guards being on duty in the road, 
the remainder of the pickets being near by at their fire, 
and their horses tied close at hand. They were accosted 
by the guard with the usual — 

''Halt! who conies there ?" 

'^ Friends, with the countersign !" was the answer. 

'' Dismount; advance, one, and give the countersign," 
was now the order. 

Our scouts had foreseen this, and planned accordingly. 
Hence, they rode up briskly to the pickets ; and while 
t\\oy pulled and tugged upon the bridle reins to hold in 
their fiery steeds, the spurs upon their heels were doing 
equally good service in urging the animals forward, and 
they could not be stopped until abreast of the pickets 
and nearly touching their opposing muskets. Moore 
then leaned forward, without dismounting, as if to give 
the password, and suddenly jerked to one side the 
bayonet and loaded gun of the nearest guard, while with 
his other hand he shot him dead with his pistol, sud- 
denly drawn from his holster. The ball penetrated the 
forehead, the guard falling over backward, his mouth 
wide opened. Blue at the same time drew a pistol and 
shot the other guard dead in his tracks, and away they 
flew down the road, and were speedily lost in the dark- 
ness and distance. The rest of the rebel pickets did not 
pursue them, but our scouts coidd hear them shout after 

them long and loudly, ''Oh, you infernal Yankees!'' 

etc., etc. The scouts soon took to the woods, travelling 



22 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

;ill night in the direction of Nashville, and meeting with 
no further adventure until soon after sunrise, when one 
of them espied a moving object in their front, at a con- 
siderable distance. A second glance revealed it to be a 
" butternut," with gun in hand, who at that instant 
jrlided behind a tree and took deliberate aim at them. 
Our scouts, who were also in butternut, were not taken 
aback. Keeping on at an easy horse walk, and appa- 
rently noticing no one, one of them begins to sing, in 
a l)risk, cheery voice, a verse of the "Dixie" song, 
ending — 

"In a Southern land I'll take my stand, 
And live and die in Dixie," etc. 

As thev neared the butternut, he was observed to 
lower his gun and emerge from behind the tree. When 
abreast, he accosted the twain : — 

" Halloo, boys ! which way ?" 

'• All right! — taking a little scout this morning," was 
the answer. 

The '' butternut," who was a rebel scout or guerilla, 
was now near them, unsuspecting, and inclined to be in- 
quisitive and sociable, his gun over his shoulder. But 
our men were in haste, and had a vivid remembrance of 
that previous moment when he had draM'n a bead on 
them, in such a cold-blooded manner, from behind the 
tree. One of them draws his revolver as quick as thought 
and shoots him dead ; and again they ride forward briskly 
for a while, and eventually reach the Federal lines near 
Nashville in safety, but through dangers to be feared 
upon every hand, from behind each tree, or rock, or 
bush — as they were traversing debatable land, between 
two great contending armies, and known to be swarming 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 23 

with scouts, spies, and troops, and especially rebel gue- 
rillas or " partisan rangers." 

Acting as secret policemen and detectives, they now 
assisted in developing several important cases, a full 
mention of which would fdl many pages of this work. 
Occasionally they varied their daily routine by acting 
as guides to cavalry expeditions, in which they rendered 
efficient service. One of their adventures in Nashville 
is worth relating. 

After the battle of Stone River large numbers of rebel 
prisoners were sent to the city and allowed their parole, 
whereupon the wealthy secessionists of the place seized 
every opportunity to feed, clothe, and encourage them. 
One day, as Moore and Blue were walking down High 
street in the dress of Confederate prisoners, they were 
invited into an elegant residence and were kindly enter- 
tained by Miss Hamilton, one of the reigning belles of 
Nashville. Conversation naturally ensued concerning 
the relative merits and demerits of the North and South, 
in the course of which Miss Hamilton said she had done 
every thing in her power to aid the Southern cause. She 
had sent letters of encouragement, she said, and also a 
Southern flag, through the lines. She told them of an 
old Irishwoman who was in the habit of carrying out 
goods in a market wagon which had a false bottom. She 
said, too, that Governor Andy Johnson once had her 
brought before him and gave her a severe lecturing, but 
she soon talked him over, and persuaded him into giving 
her a pass to go two miles out of the city to see her aunt, 
and that when once beyond the lines she went to the 
rebel army at Murfreesboro. She further said that a 
Mrs. Montgomery, who lived two miles out on the Frank- 



24 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

liii pike, had taken out more goods than anybody else 
in Nashville. When she went to Murfreesboro she 
took out with her letters, and had given to Southern 
soldiers coming into Nashville large quantities of cloth- 
ing, and iinally demonstrated her good will by presenting 
Moore with a fine pair of pants and other clothing and 
a pair of new boots. In return for these acts of kindness, 
Colonel Truesdail sent lier the following letter of 
thanks : — 

" Office Chikf Army Police, January 10, 1863. 

"Miss Hamilton, High Street: — 

"■Dear Miss : — Please accept my grateful acknowledg- 
ment for your kindness — during the arrival of a large 
number of Confederate prisoners in the city from the 
battle of Stone River, and their stay here — in calling 
into your beautiful residence one of my secret police, 
i^nd for the kind and benevolent treatment you extended 
to him. Also for the new suit of clothes and the cav- 
alry boots given him, the valuable information of your 
labors in the Confederate cause furnished to him, and 
the knowledge aflbrded me of your persevering energy as 
a spy and smuggler. I shall endeavor to profit by it, 
and may have occasion to send another officer to you. 
" Respectfully, 

"William Truesdail, 
'' Chief Army Police.^' 

After this they accompanied a cavalry police expedi- 
tion for the purpose of capturing Captains Young and 
Scruggs — the leaders of a band of guerillas on White's 
Creek, who were a terror to the whole country. They 
were at the house of an old man named McNeil, which 
was surrounded and a demand made for Young and 
Scruggs. There being some sixty troops to back the de- 
mand, the old man did not dare to deny their presence, 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 25 

and, without deigning any reply, turned at once, went 
into the house, and bolted the door. This slight bar- 
rier was speedily broken down, and the crowd rushed 
in. Search was made everywhere — down-stairs and 
up, under beds, in chimneys, and under the floor ; but 
neither Young nor Scruggs was found. As a last resort, 
they went to the girl's bedroom ; and there — in bed be- 
tween two full-grown young women — the valiant Young 
was found snugly hidden away. He was unceremoni- 
ously dragged out, and Scruggs, in the meanwhile, having 
been found in a hay-loft, both were taken to Nashville, 
and thrown into the penitentiary at that place, awaiting 
their trial. 

After their return to Nashville, Moore and Blue were 
constantly engaged for a number of months in the in 
vestigation of numerous minor cases of smuggling and 
fraud, and succeeded in making Nashville too hot a 
place for the swarms of rebel emissaries who had so long 
made it their headquarters. 



At the outbreak of the war, in 1861, a Southern mer- 
chant wrote to a large firm in New York, requesting a 
list of the names of those who supported and sympor 
thized with the "movement against the South." The 
New Yorker replied by sending, through Adams & Co.'s 
Express, a copy of the " City Directory !" 



26 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 



A NAMELESS SPY. 

General Garfield relates, in the annals of the Army 
of the Cumberland, a thrilling and interesting narrative 
of a nameless Union spy (nameless, because, at that time 
to have given his real name, would have brought down 
upon him and his family the bitter vengeance of the in- 
jQuential rebels of Kentucky and Tennessee), who, as he 
states, went into and came out from Bragg's army at 
Murfreesboro three times during the week of battles at 
Stone river — who even dined at the table of Bragg and 
of his other generals — who brought us correct information 
as to the force and position of the rebel arniy, and of 
the boasts of its head officers. This spy was the first to 
assure us positively that Bragg would fight at Stone 
river, telling us of that general's boast, that "he would 
whip Rosecrans back to Nashville if it cost ten thousand 
men." For the four days* service thus rendered by our 
spy he was paid five thousand dollars by order of our 
general, and the author saw the money passed to him. 

In 1802 there lived in the State of Kentucky a Union 
man, with his wife and children. He was a friend of the 
Union, and an anti-slavery man u[)ou principle. After 
the rebellion broke out, and when the '" Southern heart" 
had become fired, this man, living in a strong pro-slavery 
region, and surrounded b}* opulent slaveholders — his 
own family connections and those of his wife being also 
wealthy and bitter secessionists — very prudently held his 
peace, feeling his utter inability to stem the tide of the 
rebellion in his section. This reticence, together with 
his known Southern birth and relations, enabled him to 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 27 

pass unsuspected, and almost unobserved, at a time 
when Breckinridge, Marshall, Preston, and Buckner, 
and other ardent politicians of Kentuclcy chose the re- 
bellion as their portion, and endeavored to carry with 
them the State amidst a blaze of excitement. Thus, 
without tacit admissions or any direct action upon his 
part, the gentlcinaii of whom we write was classed by 
the people of his sec^tion as a secessionist. 

Circumstances occurred during that year by which 
this person was brought into contact with a Federal com- 
mander in Kentucky, General Nelson. Their meeting 
and acquaintance was accidental. Mutual Union senti- 
ments begat personal sympathy and friendship. Nelson 
wished a certain service performed in the rebel territory 
and he persuaded the citizen to undertake it— which the 
latter finally did as a matter of duty, we are assured, 
rather than of gain, for he made no charge for the ser- 
vice after its speedy and successful performance. Soon 
after, a similar work was necessary; and again was the 
citizen 'iniportiuiLMl, and he again consented, but did not 
consider himself as a professional spy. 

Daring this or a similar trip, and while at Chatta- 
nooga, our man heard of the sudden death of General 
Nelson. lie was now at a loss what to do. Finally 
he determined to return and report his business to 
Major-General Rosecrans, who had assumed command 
of the Federal army. Thus resolved, he proceeded to 
finish his mission. After ascertaining the position of 
military affairs at Chattanooga, he came to Murfreesboro, 
where Bragg's army was then collecting. Staying here 
several days, he was urged by his Southern army friends 
to act as their spy in Kentucky. The better to conceal 



28 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

his own feelings and position, he consented to do so, and 
he left General Bragg's headqnarters to go to that State 
by way of Nashville, feigning important business, and 
from thence to go to his home, passing by and through 
Rosecraus' army as it lay stretched out between Nash- 
ville and Louisville. 

The nameless man now makes his way to the Federal 
headquarters, seeks a private interview with General 
Kosecrans, and states his case fully as we have just re- 
lated. Here was something remarkable, surely — a spy 
in the conlidence of the commanders of two great oppo- 
sing armies ! Our general took much pains to satisfy 
himself of the honesty and soundness of the stranger. 
He was pleased with the man's candid manner, and his 
story bore an air of consistency and truth. Yet, he was 
a Southerner, surrounded by rebellious influences, and 
enjoyed Bragg's confidence ; and what guarantee could 
be given that he was a Union man at heart ? None ; 
and General Rosecrans, in great perplexity, held .council 
Avith his Chief of Police, and requested the latter to '' dig 
up " the case to its very root. This was done ; but in 
what manner we need not specially state. Satisfied that 
it would do to trust the spy, to a certain extent at least, 
he was now sent on his way to perform his mission for 
Bragg. At all events, that scheming general so sup- 
posed when our man's report was made at the rebel 
headquarters a few days afterward. His information 
was very acceptable to Bragg ; but we strongly question 
its value to rebeldom, as the spy reported only what he 
was told by that old fox Colonel Truesdail. 

Perhaps the reader will inquire, how can we answer 
for the report thus made to Bragg ? it may have been 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 29 

more true and valuable than we supposed. Well, there 
is force in the query. We are fallen upon strange times, 
when honesty, virtue, and patriotism are at heavy dis- 
count in rebeldom, and the Indian's idea of the uncer- 
tainty of white men is by no means a myth. However, 
we were then quite confident of the worthlessness of the 
report of our spy to Bragg, because lie had nothing else 
to tell him. For five days did our spy keep himself 
locked in a private room in the police building at Nash- 
ville. His meals were carried to him by a trusty ser- 
vant. His door was ''shadowed " constantly by our best 
detectives, and so were his steps if he ventured upon 
the street for a few moments after dark. It was cold 
and bleak winter weather, and he toasted himself before 
his comfortiible fire, read books and papers, and conferred 
often with the Chief of Police and his assistant, afford- 
ing them, strangers as they were to that region of 
country, a fund of valuable information respecting the 
rebels of Kentucky and Tennessee. He was a man of 
fine address and good intellectual attainments. When 
our man concluded it was about time for his return to 
Bragg's army, he was politely escorted by our mounted 
police to a proper point beyond our lines, and by a route 
where he would see nothing of our forces. The reader 
will now appreciate the grounds of our confidence, we 
doubt not, in tlie worthlessness of at least one of Gen- 
eral Braxton Bragg's spy reports. 

In due time this nameless gentleman again enters our 
lines, and is escorted in by our pickets to the general 
commanding, to whom he reports in person concerning 
all that is transpiring in Bragg's army at Murfreesboro, 
and then he resumes his pleasant private quarters at the 



30 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

army police building. How little could the rebel Gen- 
eral Zollicofter have thought, or have imagined as the 
wildest dream, while building his elegant house in High 
sti-eet, Nashville, that its gorgeous rooms should ever be 
devoted to such purposes ! After a brief stay, another 
trip was made by our man to Bragg s headquarters, we 
using the same precautions as previously. In fact, our 
spy desired and even demanded, such attention at the 
hands of the Chief of Police. Said he — 

•* I am a stranger to you all. I can give you no 
guarantee whatever of my good laith. It is alike due to 
you and to myself that I be allowed no opportunities for 
deceiving you." 

The report he carried to Bragg on his second trip de- 
lighted the latter. His officers talked with our man 
freely, and after staying at Murfreesboro two or three 
days, and riding and walking all about in the most inno- 
cent and unconcerned manner, he was again sent back 
to Nashville to '* fool that sIoav Dutchman, Rosecrans," 
as one of the rebel officers remarked. Of the import- 
ance of the report now brought to the " slow Dutchman" 
we need not state further than that it contril)uted its due 
weight to a decision fraught with tremendous conse- 
quences to the army and to the country. Marching 
orders were soon after issued for the advance of the 
Army of the Cumberland upon Murfreesboro. 

Now commenced a period of excessive labor and peril 
for the nameless spy. General Rosecrans and Bragg 
each wanted instant and constant information as the 
armies approached. The minutia? of this man's work 
for four or five days we need not stop to relate : it is 
easily imagined. Within that time he entered the rebel 



NAKUATIVKS OK SIMMS, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 31 

liiu's and rdunu'd (liroo liiiirs. I Ii' guvo llu> ouiliiioot" 
l)riii2;^'s liiu> of baltio, ;i close (>s(iin;ilc of his forces ;iii 
accunito account ol" his ai'tillory iiiul his earthworks, the 
inoveiuents of the rebel wagon anil railroad trains, etc., 
etc. lie was very earnest in assuring llosecrans that 
Bragg inliMuled to give severe battle with su|H>rior 
ininibiM's. 

This inlbrniation proved true in all essentials, and its 
value to the country was iui'stiina,bK\ ^Ve had other 
spies [)iercing the rebel lines at this time, but they did 
not onjoy the I'acilities possessed b\ the nameless one. 
Almost with anguish did he i^xclaim against himselC, in 
lh(^ pri>s(Mice ol" tlie author, ("or the st>\('ri> manner in 
which he was (Kn'oiving the rebel general and involving 
the lives oi' his thousands ol'brn.ve but deluded lollowers. 

At'ter the Ih'st great battle the work of such a. spy is 
ended, or, rather, it ceases wIumi {\\c shock ofarnis conies 
en. 'riuMiciMbrth the armit^s art^ moved n\)o\\ the instant, 
as circumstauct's may nMiuin*. Our man, who, during 
the tour days, had biHMi almost incessantly in the saddle, 
er with his ears and eyes painfully observant while in 
tiie cauijjs, took leave of our army upon the battle iield, 
and nMired to a place o( rest. 

One inciilent occurred, durimr his last visit to Rraii'ii", 
which is worthy of mention. That gcuiu'al took alarm 
in consequence ol' his re])ort, and at once started a 
s[)ecial messenger to (leneral John 1 1. .Morgan — who 
was then absent with his cavalry in Kentucky to de- 
stroy Rosecrans' railroad connnunieations (in which 
Morgan succiH>d(>d) — to n>turn instantly with his com- 
mand by forced. marclu>s io Murfreesbort). That same 
night our man reported this fact to the Federal com- 



32 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

iiiander, described the messenger and what route he 
would take, etc. Tlie information was telegraphed at 
once to Nashville, Gallatin, and Bowling Green, and a 
force was sent from each of those posts to intercept the 
messenger. They failed to apprehend him — which, 
however, proved of no consequence, as the battles of 
Stone River were fought, and Bragg was on his retreat 
from Murfreesboro by the time Morgan could have re- 
ceived the orders. 

Our spy was a brave man : yet, during the last three 
days of his service he was most sensible of its peril. To 
pass between hostile lines in the lone hours of the night 
— for he did not wait for daylight — to be halted by 
guerillas and scouts and pickets, with guns aimed at 
him, and, finally, to meet and satisfy the anxious, keen 
eyed, heart searching rebel officers as well as our own, 
was a mental as well as physical demand that could not 
long be sustained. While proceeding upon his last ex- 
pedition, the author met the nameless one upon a by- 
road. We halted our horses, drew near, and conversed 
a few seconds in private, while our attendants and com- 
panions moved on. He was greatly exhausted and 
soiled in appearance — his clothing having been rained 
upon and splashed by nuiddy water, caused by hard 
riding, and which had dried upon him. He said he was 
about to try it once more, and, though he had been so 
often and so successfully, yet he feared detection and its 
sure result, the bullet or the halter. He had been 
unable, amid the hurry and excitement, to make some 
final disposition of his alfairs. He gave us a last message 
to send to his wife and children in case it became neces- 
sary ; and he also desired a promise — most freely given 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 33 

— that we would attend to the settlement oi' his account 
with General Rosecrans for services recently rendered. 
Thus concluding, he wrung our hand most earnestly, 
and, putt'ug spurs to his fresh and spirited animal, 
dashed off upon his mission. Twenty hours afterward 
we were relieved of our auxious forehodings by his safe 
and successful return. We have stated the price paid 
him for his labors : it was well earned, and to our cause 
was a most profitable investment. 



The Prayer of the Wicked. — During the month of 
December last, and for many weeks previous, a severe 
drought prevailed in Tennessee. The Cumberland 
river was fordable in many places, the smaller streams 
nearly dry, and in sundry localities water for stock very 
scarce. During its continuance, a Union man at Shelby- 
ville, while hi attendance upon the Methodist chi '-ch 
at that place, heard a prayer offered from the pulpit by 
the officiating minister, in which occured a sentence 
somewhat as follows : — 

" Lord, as a nation free and independent, look 
down uptm us in mercy and loving-kindness, and hold 
us within the hollow of thy hand amidst all our desola- 
tion and sorrow. Let the rays of heaven's light smile 
upon our fields, and the dews of beneficent mercy be 
slied upon our valleys. Let the rain descend to beautify 
and fructify the earth and to swell the rivers of waters; 
but, Lord, do not raise the Cumberland sufiicient to 
bring upon us the damnable Yankee gunboats !" 



3 



34 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 



CORPORAL PIKE, SCOUT AND RANGER. 

Whether we consider the length of tmie during whicli 
he was employed, or the variety and hazardous character 
of the service in whicli he was engaged, we think no one 
of the scouts and spies emplo^'ed by the commanders 
of the Union armies has ever passed through a greater 
number of startling and perilous adventures than Cor- 
poral James Pike, of the Fourth Ohio Cavalry. He has 
published a narrative of his services, which is replete 
with interest. We cannot follow him in any except the 
most renuirkable of these, for want of space. A native 
of Leesburg, Ohio, and a printer by profession, he pos- 
sessed in a large degree that love of adventure which is 
so often a characteristic of Western men. He gives us 
no clue to his age ; but he must have been not more 
than five or six and twenty years old, when, in the 
winter of 1858-9, he had come to the determination, 
after working at his trade for some time at Jefferson City, 
to migrate to Kansas, where the border ruffian war was 
then raging, in search of adventures. Having been 
turned aside from this intention by the solicitation of a 
Texan adventurer, he went to Texas ; and very soon 
joined a company of Rangers, and for nearly two years 
was engaged in w^ arfare wdth the Camanches and other 
of the savage Indian tribes in Northern Texas. After 
numerous hair-breadth escapes, and terrible suffering in 
the ill advised expedition against the Camanche Indians, 
prosecuted under Colonel Johnston, he returned to Waco, 
Texas, and found the community there, as elsewhere, 
all alive with excitement in regard to Mr. Lincoln's 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 35 

election. Avowing himself a Union man, he was soon 
obliged to fly ; though not until he had recorded himself 
as against the iniquitous ordinance of Secession. Great 
numbers of Union men were murdered at this time in 
Texas, simply for the avowal of Union sentiments ; and 
Pike, desirous of doing his country some service against 
the bloodthirsty secessionists, escaped from the State into 
Arkansas; and wlien he fell in with rebels, represented 
himself as the nephew of Albert Pike, a rebel general 
then in the western part of the Indian Territory. More 
than once he found himself in situations from whence 
escape seemed impossible ; but his ready wit, before 
long, enabled him to find some way of evading the picket 
lines of the enemy : and passing through Memphis and 
Nashville — meeting his father at the latter place — he 
made his way to Portsmouth, Ohio, by midsummer of 
186?; and soon after enlisted, first in Fremont's body- 
guard, and subsequently in the Fourth Ohio Cavalry. After 
spending two months in acquiring a knowledge of cavalry 
drill, Corporal Pike and the rest of his company were 
mustered into the U. S. service at Camp Dennison, on 
the 20th of November, 1861 ; and early in the spring 
moved to Louisville, where they were assigned to General 
0. M. Mitchel's division, and soon marched toward Bowl- 
ing Green. General Mitchel was too shrewd a judge 
of character not to discern quickly Pike's qualifications 
for the secret service; and before he had been under 
him a week, he sent him, with some twenty comrades, on 
a scout toward Green River, Ky. On his return, lie 
found General Mitchel's division before Bowling Green, 
and with another soldier, crossed the Big Barren river 
on a raft, with a coil of rope, to facilitate the construction 



36 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

of a pontoon bridge. The army being safely in Bowling 
Green, Corporal Pike explored the adjacent region, and 
arrested the guerillas, who, in the guise of Union soldiers, 
were plundering, burning, and destroying private and 
public property. In one of these expeditions, he was 
told of two of these marauders named Robinson and 
Keaton, about sixteen miles distant, who were constantly 
committing depredations. lie started alone to arrest 
them, but before proceeding far met two men, and soon 
after a third, whom he knew to be guerillas and seces- 
sionists; but whom he addressed as law-abiding citizens, 
telling them whom he was going to arrest, and insisted 
upon their coming with him and giving him assistance. 
They at first endeavored to excuse themselves, but as 
they were personally hostile to Robinson and Keaton, 
they finally consented to go with him, and he arrested 
the culprits, while they guarded and took charge of 
them. The Union people of the vicinity, not aware of 
the real character of Robinson and Keaton, and believing 
that this was a movement of the secessionists, followed 
in some force to Bowling Green, to demand their release ; 
but by hard riding Pike reached there first, and delivered 
up, not only the two marauders, but the three guerillas 
he had compelled to aid him in capturing them ; and 
when the Union party, who had come on to demand 
their release, arrived at the provost-marshal's, it was 
found that there were three more bushwhackers in their 
ranks, who were also arrested and sent to jail. 

General Mitchel next sent him to ascertain the loca- 
tion and strength of Morgan's band, then just beginning 
to make some disturbance in Middle Tennessee. He 
succeeded in having an interview with Morgan, passing 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 87 

himself off as a Texan ranger; ascertained the strength 
of his command, and after narrowly escaping capture 
two or three times, succeeded in reaching the Union 
lines near Nashville. 

General Mitchell, who was one of the most active and 
energetic of commanders, now determined to exj^lore 
the roads and bridges leading to Shelby ville, preparatory 
to a movement upon that town, and sent Corporal Pike 
to perform that service — one of great difficulty and 
danger, inasmuch as it was remote from the Union 
lines, and all the roads were picketed by the Texan 
Rangers and Morgan's battalion. But danger only added 
new zest to any enterprise, and he undertook it cheer- 
fully. His encounters on this expedition were many and 
startling, but when meeting the rebels in considerable 
numbers, he passed himself off as Captain Bonham, of 
the First Louisiana Cavalry, just escaped from the Union 
lines 5 and told his story so plausibly tluit it met w^ith 
perfect credence. If there were but one or two, he 
trusted to his pistols and the speed of his good horse ; and 
on one occasion, meeting at night a part of Morgan's 
battalion, the audacious fellow professed to be on picket 
duty, and demanded the countersign ; but finding them 
ignorant of it, compelled them to file past, and when 
they were nearly across a rickety bridge in the vicinity, 
he put spurs to his horse and rode in an opposite 
direction. 

On the 8th of April, 1862, General Mitchell sent Pike 
to Decatur, Alabama, to get information as to the state 
of the countrj', and destroy the railroad bridge at that 
point if possible. Some of his adventures on this ex- 
pedition were so characteristic of the shrewdness and 



38 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

audacity of the man that we cannot do better than to 
give them in his own words. 

"Near to the town of Fayetteville, Lincohi county, 
Tennessee, night overtook me, and I left the road for 
a short distance and slept in the woods. This was Sat- 
urday night, and Sunday morning I rode into town. 
The citizens were astonished to see a single man, dressed 
in full Yankee costume — blue jacket, blue blouse, and 
blue pants — and armed with the well known Yankee 
accoutrements, venture among them. They gathered 
about me in a great crowd, and seemed to regard it as the 
freak of a madman, but on approaching me at the hotel, 
they found me entirely rational, cool, and of decent de- 
portment, and they at once changed their minds, and 
took me for one of their own men in disguise. Seeing 
it was my best plan to encourage this belief, I ordered 
my breakfast, went to the stable to see my horse fed, and 
then returned to my room at the hotel. There were 
about three hundred men gathered on tlie sidewalk to 
ascertain what the strange arrival meant, and to hear 
the news ; and they were watching me with eager inter- 
est. I felt that I was playing a delicate game, with my 
neck in a halter. If they had only known my true 
character, they would l^ut too gladly have hanged me to 
the nearest tree. They asked me my name, which I 
told them ; next my regiment, and with a swaggering 
air, I said : 

'' ' The Fourth Ohio Cavalry.' 

'■'■ 'What is your colonel's name?' said one. 

'''Colonel John Kennett,' I answered, slowly, and 
with a dubious look. 

" ' What is your captain's name ?' inquired another. 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 39 

" 'Captain 0. P. Robie,' I told him. 

'^ ' Where is your command ?' asked one who appeared 
to be a man of consequence. 

'^ 'At Shelby ville.' 

'''Well,' he continued, 'if your command is there, 
what are you doing here by yourself?' 

" ' Why, sir,' I responded, ' if you want to know, I 
came to demand the surrender of this town.' 

" ' Well, well/ said the man ; ' that is too good. One 
man to take a town like this,' and they enjoyed the 
joke hugely. 

" They now began to look exceedingly wise ; and I 
heard the whisper pass from mouth to mouth, that I was 
one of Morgan's men. This declaration I heard again 
and again, as I passed through the crowd. Soon after, 
a gentleman stepped up to me and requested to exam- 
ine my gun, which I handed to him after removing the 
cap ; but I at tlie same time drew out my pistol, cocked 
it, and held it in my hand till my piece was returned to 
me. After a brief survey of the gun, it was delivered 
over to me with trembling hand, when I restored the 
cap and put up my pistol. 

"At this moment I was called to breakfast, and walked 
into the dining-room and sat down to the table, keep- 
ing an eye on every thing at once. I seated myself be- 
side a man of good appearance, who had on a handsome 
uniform and the three stars of a rebel colonel. Sling- 
ing my carbine across my knees, with the hammer up, 
ready for instant use, I loosed my pistols, in the scab- 
bard on one side, and a vicious bowie knife on the other, 
after which I began to appease my appetite on the good 
things before me, watching the colonel closely. He 



40 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

looked at 1110 tlivoe diflcrent times, and then rising 
abruptly iroiii the table, darted out into the crowd, and 
I saw no more of him. A lew minutes after, I heard 
the people on the sidewalk raise a loud laugh at the ex- 
pense of some one. 

"After eating a meal — the first since I had left camp — 
I went out into the crowd again, and called for the 
mayor, saying I wanted him to surrender the town. 
Again the bystanders raised a laugh, and called for some 
one to go for the mayor, as he was not present. They 
then began to joke me about our gunboats, saying the 
Yankees would never tight unless backed by them. I 
told them that General Mitchel had dry land gunboats, 
with steel soles and spring runners, and that he had used 
them with great eflect at Bowling Green. One of the 
men said : 

'' ' If you're a Yankee, show us a Yankee trick, and 
we will believe you.' 

•' •Gentlemen,' said I, 'I will do my best to show 
you one. before I leave this neck of timber.' 

'"Where are you going';' said one. 

" ' Down the country.' 1 replied. 

'' 'Look here, now,' one of the fellows pursued, 'you 
may as well own up and tell us where the captain is.' 

"• • What captain ?' I asked. 

'* 'Why Captain Morgan, to be sure.' * 

'''Gentlemen,' said I, slowly, 'you have.wak?d up 
the wrong passenger. I belong to the Fourth yhio Cav- 
alry ;' and again the laugh rung out at my preposterous 
assertion. 

In obedience to directions, my horse was brouiiht out, 
and it was a favorable time to leave, as they were all in 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 41 

a good humor, and I consequently mounted and took the 
road to Hunts ville at a gallop. Just as I passed the 
crowd one fellow sung out : 

'' ' Hold on there, you haven't shown us that Yankee 
trick yet,' 

" ' There's plenty of time,' said I, turnhig in my saddle 
to watch their movements, ' before 1 leave this section 
of the country.' 

" About five miles from Fayetteville is a very noted 
highland called Wells' Hill, and on the top of it there is 
a fork in the road, the left going directly south to Hunts- 
ville, and the right to Athens and Decatur. On reach- 
ing this road, I was in the act of turning into it, wlien 
I looked across on still another road, called the Meridian 
road, and discovered a train of wagons coming slowly up 
the hill. I watched it till I saw there was no guard 
near, and then riding around till I met the first wagon, 
I. caused it to be drawn close along against the fence, 
and there stopped ; then the next two to be drawn close 
alongside, thus making an effectual barricade against 
any force which was approaching from that direction. 
Next I seized the wagon master, who was some distance 
in the rear of the train, and shoved him and the drivers 
up into the fencj corner, making one of them turn the 
mules loose from the wagons. The loads were covered 
with corn blades and other forage, so one could not see 
them, but the drivers told me that the wagons were 
loaded with bacon. 

"After arranging things to my satisfaction, I produced 
a bunch of matches, and fired the fodder on the top of 
each of the wagons, which were of the old-fashioned 



42 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

curved bodies, Conestoga pattern, each of which had on 
it four thousand pounds of bacon. 

'• The guns of the party all happened to be in the 
wagons, and none of them had any side arms, except 
the wagon master, who had something under his coat 
that looked like a pistol; and as he wore a belt, it is 
very probable he had one ; and some of the citizens, I 
know had, for I saw three or four of them ; but I was 
ready to shoot before they could recover from their sur- 
prise, so that it would have been foolhardy for them to 
resist, as I would certainly have killed the first man 
who made a motion to draw a weapon. I made no 
attempt to take their side arms, as I did not want to 
lose my advantage over them for an instant. There 
were three good guns burned up in the wagons, one a 
double barrelled shot gun, and two old muskets. 

*' When the flames shot up, several citizens came to the 
scene of action, but I thrust them into the fence corner, 
along with the wagon master and teamsters. As soon 
as the wagons were so far destroyed that they began to 
tail down, and I saw that it would be impossible to save 
anything of the wreck, I made the drivers mount the 
mules, and the wagon master his horse, and taking them 
on the road to Fayetteville, I told them that I was going 
to count one hundred ; and that if, by that time, they 
were not out of sight, I would shoot the last one of them 
within range. I then began to count; 'one,' 'two,' 
' three,' etc., very deliberately, while they put spurs to 
their steeds, and in a brief time they were beyond my 
l;en, over the hills, toward Fayetteville, to give the in- 
habitants an account of my Yankee trick. 

'■ Wheeling my horse, I put out once more for Decatur, 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 43 

but at the same time inquiring my Avay to Athens, as if 
I intended to go there. As I passed the burning wagons 
again, I told the citizens standing around, that if they 
did not leave instanter, I Avould shoot the last one of 
them, and they scattered like blackbirds. 

" About ten miles farther down the road, I heard the 
deep, sonorous tones of a preacher, belaboring a sinful 
congregation. He was evidently a devout believer in a 
terrible and endless punishment for the wicked, for he 
was holding out to his audience the fearful picture of a 
lost sinner in hell ; making a comparison between his 
condition and that of Dives, who, he asserted, was once 
in a similar state of sinfulness while on earth, and who 
eventually brought up in hell, and from whence he ex- 
pressed a strong desire to visit Abraham in his new 
abode ; adding that the wishes of the unfortunate Dives 
could not be complied with for some geographical cause 
— something in the topography of the country — a gulf 
in the way, I believe. Over this subject he grew 
eloquent, and had probably got about to his ' thirdly,' and 
the congregation were almost breathless with attention, 
when it occurred to me that there might be soldiers in the 
church, and I had better look after them ; otherwise 
they might give me some trouble. Riding up to the 
door, I made my horse enter about half way, so that I 
could see every man in the house. As his feet struck 
the floor of the church, with a loud, banging sound, the 
people were astonished to see a soldier, under arms, riding 
boldly in among them. Turning to the preacher, I 
inquired if there were any southern soldiers in the house. 
The clergyman was standing with his hand raised, as he 
was about to enforce some point he had made, being the 



44 NARRATIVES OF SriES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

very picture of earnest honesty, looking as if he believed 
every word that he had said. AVhcn he saw me, his 
hand dropped, and he seemed as badly frightened as if 
the identical devil he had so vividly described had 
appeared before him. He was almost overpowered with 
fright, and supporting himself by the rough pulpit, he 
glanced at the back door, and then faltered out : ' Not 
now, I believe, sir.' I saw that there had been rebel 
soldiers there, and that they had escaped in the direction 
of his glance ; I instantly pulled my horse back, and 
spurred to the corner of the log church, just in time to 
see four men disappear in the brush across a field which 
lay back of the building. They were too far off for me 
to shoot at, and not desiring to disturb the worshi}) 
further than the strictest military necessity demanded, 
I rode on, after desiring the clergyman to pray for the 
President of the United States. The rebel papers had 
an account of the affair, but they lied when they stated 
that I tried to make the preacher take a drink of whiskey ; 
for I hadn't a drop to bless myself with. 

'' Pretty soon I met two soldiers riding leisurely along 
to church. I halted them, demanded their names, regi- 
ments, and companies, and informed them that they 
were prisoners of war ; that I was a federal soldier, but 
that there was no way for me to dispose of them so far 
from our lines except one ; I was sorry it was so — Init I 
must shoot them. They begged I would spare their 
lives, and pledged their honor that the}^ would go with 
me in good faith, if I would not kill them. I pretended 
to be in a deep study for a few moments, and ther told 
them if they would take the oath of allegiance to the 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 45 

United States I would let them go ; and to this they 
agreed eagerly. 

'' Holding up my right hand, and removing my cap, 
they imitated my example, uncovered their heads, raised 
their hands, and with a solemn look, that would well 
become a court room, waited for me to administer ' the 
oath.' I had joked them far enough, however, and not 
wishing to be guilty of blasphemy by administering an 
obligation I had no authority to require of them, I told 
them that I would rely upon their honor, but they must 
do nothing toward pursuing me, or giving information 
concerning my whereabouts ; and I then told them to 
' go in peace.' 

'' The next man I met was an old citizen, riding a very 
spirited horse, and dressed in a suit of l^utternut-colored 
homespun. Tall, thin featured, and gaunt, he was the 
very picture of a secesli planter. I stopped him, and 
inquired the way to Camargo ; he pointed to the road 
he had just left, and told me to follow that. I now told 
him I was a confederate officer, and that I had orders 
from General Beauregard to gather up all the stragglers 
I could find, and bring them forthwith to Corinth ; that 
we were expecting a great battle there with our ' detesta- 
ble foe,' the Yankees, and that it was absolutely 
necessary for every one to be at his post. 

'' ' You will,' said I, ' do me a favor and your country 
good service by giving me the names of all soldiers who 
are at home without leave in your neighborhood.' 

'"Certainly, sir,' he replied ; ' I will do so with plea- 
sure ; and if I had time/ he added, ' I would go with 
you, and help to find them.' 

*' I then drew out a note-book, and wrote down each 



46 NARRATIVKS OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

name he gave me, with the company and regiment of 
each man, together with his residence ; and then asked 
him to refer me to some responsible citizens, who would 
give assistance if necessary. He gave me the names of 
lialf a dozen, who, he said, would not only assist me, 
but would give the names of other delinquents. 

'• lie now prepared to ask me a few questions, and pre- 
face them with the statement that he was the ' Chief 
Justice, of Lincoln county, and that he was on his way 
to Fayetteville to open court on Monday morning. 

^* ' Are there many cases to be disposed of?' I asked. 

'^ ' Yes, a good many,' he said. 

'''What is their nature generally ?' was my next 
inquiry. 

" ' Why, they are mostly political,' said he. 

^' I was at no loss to know what the phrase meant ; the 
accused were Union men, who, true to their principles, 
had refused to yield to the demands of the secessionists, 
but chose persecution rather than dishonor. I then 
concluded to have a little fun out of the old fellow, and 
render the persecuted loyalists what assistance I could. 
But as I did not desire to kill him in cold blood, I con- 
cluded to frighten him a little by way of punishment. 
Pointing to the dense column of smoke that was rising 
from the buniing bacon, I said, roughly : 

" ' Look there, old man.' 

" ' Why, what in the name of God does that mean?' 
inquired he, raising his eyes in utter astonishment. 

" ' Why, sir,' I responded, ' it means that I am a 
United States soldier, and I have just burned a rebel 
train up there, and am now about to dispose of the 
Chief Justice of Lincoln county' — at the same moment 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 47 

raising the hammer of my gun, and drawing a bead on 
him. 

'^ ' Great God ! don't kill me, sir,' he piteously pleaded; 
' don't kill me.' 

^^ ' Look here, old man,' said I, savagely, ' if I let you 
live, do you think you will trouble Union men in this 
county again?' 

'^ ' 0, no, no, I will not.' 

" ' Won't bring 'em to trial ?' I asked. 

" '^ No, indeed, I will not,' he solemnly asserted; *I 
have been compelled to enforce the law,' he then began 
in extenuation, when I interrupted him with, 

" ' Don't talk to me about enforcing the laws, you old 
reprobate, or I will kill you in your tracks. Now, see 
here,' I continued, ' I will give you a chance for your life. 
This is a level road, and a straight one ; now, I will 
count one hundred and fifty, and if you are not out of 
sight in that time, I shall kill you, just as sure as God 
made little apples.' 

" I gave the word, and began to count, and he darted 
off, like an arrow, and was soon lost to my view in a 
cloud of dust. 

" Again taking the Athens road, I pushed on rapidly 
for some time till I passed several houses, and then, 
reaching a shallow creek, leading into the woods, I 
turned down it, so that the place where I left the road 
could not be found. I traveled up by-ways till near 
sunset, when I met with an old man, who had just 
crossed the Athens road, and he told me that he had 
seen twelve of Young's Tennessee Cavalry and fifteen 
mounted citizens after a man ' who had been raising a 
disturbance up the country.' He said . that I answered 



48 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

the description exactly, and that he believed I was the 
man. 

" ' You had better hide somewhere till after dark,' he 
advised me ; * for they are alarming the whole country 
wherever they go.' 

^' I saw that he was a Union man, so that I told him 
that if I kept on riding they could better see and hear 
me, and perhaps it would give them a chance to bush- 
whack me. I then told him I wanted to find a seques- 
tered spot, where I could leave my horse, and have him 
taken care of till I could get him again ; and he told me 
of a very good Union man, who lived down in the 
woods, away from any public road, and advised me to 
leave my horse there ; and he gave me such directions 
as would enable me to find the place, which I reached 
in safety. 

" Leaving my horse, I took to the woods on foot, mak- 
ing direct for Decatur, taking the sun for my guide. 
The second night overtook me in the woods very near 
Madison depot, on the railroad between Huntsville and 
Decatur. I had tried to travel in the night, but was 
overtaken by a terrible storm, and the darkness was so 
great that I could not find my way. Being very tired, 
I slept soundly, with no other bed than the ground, and 
no cover but my rubber Talma." 

Soaked with the rain and famished with hunger, he 
made his way, in the early morning, toward the railroad, 
and followed it till about ten o'clock, when near Miner- 
ville he found tlie residence of a Union man, and ob- 
tained a meal, his host and himself being mutually sus- 
picious of each other and both acting a part. Here he 
met some rebel cavalry soldiers, and passing himself 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES. SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 49 

off as a Texan ranger ascertained what were the defen- 
ces of the raih'oad bridge he was sent to inspect. After 
they were gone, he pursued his journey, seeking the op- 
portunity of reaching and firing the bridge, but falling 
in with the camp of the (rebel) Second Tennessee Cav- 
{.-ry, and though their suspicions were not aroused as to 
his character, they insisted on fraternizing with him to 
such an extent that he had great difficulty in shaking 
them off, and was finally obliged to use threats, which, 
while they had the effect of driving his pertinacious 
friends away, rendered his own escape a matter of ne- 
cessity. In attempting this, he got into a swamp, and 
endeavored to find his way through it to the river, and 
stealing a boat float down under the bridge and fire it. 
Failing in this, and knowing that there was no time to 
be lost, he turned his course and moved northward 
across the country to find the Union army. Travelling 
all day and until late at night, he was at length startled 
by the deep-mouthed baying, first, of a single blood- 
hound, and then soon after of several, and realized at 
once that the pursuers with their bloodhounds were on 
his track. Turning into a dense body of timber near 
by, he soon found a stream of water about waist deep, 
into which he plunged, and having crossed and broken 
their trail by so doing, he plunged into another swamp, 
where he kept on for an hour, the water being still 
nearly to his waist. Finding at length a pile of new- 
rails rising a little above the water he clambered upon 
them and was soon asleep, though he could yet hear the 
distant baying of the hounds. In the morning, be- 
numbed, and almost perishing with cold and hunger, he 
again waded the swamp for half an hour, till he came to 

4 



50 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

the rear of a plantation, and attracting the attention of 
an aged negro, Avho, on finding that he was a Yankee 
soldier, brought him food, procured him a guide, and 
cheered him on his way. After some farther adventures, 
in which he confiscated a fine rebel horse and buggy 
and brought the driver, a stalwart negro, into the Union 
lines, he reached General Mitchel's headquarters at 
HuntsviUe, Alabama. Immediately on his return, he 
was sent with despatches to General Buell, at Corinth. 
Though very weary from his previous adventures, he 
set out immediately, and riding a powerful, thorough- 
bred horse at the top of his speed to Fayetteville, thirty- 
six miles distant, w^hich he made in three hours, he pro- 
cured another horse there, and continued his journey at 
the same rapid rate, but near Columbia, he was so much 
exhausted that he fell from his horse insensible, and lay 
an hour, unconscious, on the ground, but recovering his 
senses, he mounted his horse again and delivered his de- 
spatches at Columbia, from whence General Negley tele- 
graphed them to General Buell. On his return, a negro 
hailed him and informed him that his master and eight 
other men were in ambush a little farther on, at a 
small mill, and intended to kill him. Thanking the ne- 
gro for the information, he rode rapidly to the mill, and 
as the miller ran in when he saw him coming, he called 
him out and charged him with his murderous intention. 
He, at first denied it, but being told that it was of no 
use, and that if he did not own up the whole affair he 
(Pike) would bring a party of cavalry from Columbia 
and bum the mill, his house and barn, and carry off all 
his property, he finally confessed who were his confed- 
erates and what had been their plans. Taking down 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 51 

their names, and lecturing the old man severely, Cor- 
poral Pike rode away. He soon overtook a comrade 
from his own regiment, and feeling ill, stopped with his 
friend and another Union soldier at the house of a citi- 
zen, near Meridian, to pass the night. Here an attempt 
was made during the night to assassinate him, but being 
awake and seeing one of the assassins raise and aim his 
gun at him through the window, he fired his pistol, and 
wounded the assassin, probably mortally. His comrades 
carried him off, and Pike was not again disturbed. The 
next morning he reached Huntsville. 

General Mitchel immediately sent him to ascertain 
the rebel force at Bridgeport, Tennessee. He reached 
the vicinity without any notable adventure, ascertained 
the number and position of the rebel troops, made his 
report and sent it by a Union officer who had escorted 
him nearly to Bridgeport, told the officer he would re- 
main in the mountains till the Union army came to take 
Bridgeport. Here, after some adventure, escaping once 
from the rebel pickets only by shooting the sergeant, and 
running the gauntlet of the fire of the squad ; he was 
taken prisoner, partly in consequence of his own care- 
lessness. He was taken first to Bridgeport, and thence 
to Chattanooga, where he was confined in the jail, where 
were, at that time, in the dungeon twenty-one men from 
the Second, the Twenty-first, and the Thirty-third Ohio 
regiments^ whose adventures are related elsewhere in this 
work."-' After considerable suffering here. Corporal Pike 
was removed to Knoxville to another jail, where he was 
confined in an iron cage. Here he was told that he was 

* See " The Great Railroad Chase," Part II, 



52 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

to bo tried as a spy and would undoubtedly be hung. 
From Knoxville, he was sent to Mobile, and eight 
days later, removed to Tuscaloosa, and thence to Mont- 
gomery, Alabama, where he was taken very sick 
with pneumonia and typhoid fever, and was treated 
with great inhumanity, all medicine being refused him, 
and he being left for twelve days lying upon the deck 
of the boat, without a bed and with nothing but corn 
bread and spoiled old salt junk for food. From Mont- 
gomery he was sent to Macon, Georgia. Here, weak as 
he was, he attempted to escape, but was recaptured six 
days later, being run down with bloodhounds. About 
the 1st of October, 1862, he was sent with numerous 
other })risoners by way of Savannah, Augusta, Columbia, 
Raleigh, Petersburg, and Richmond, for exchange. They 
all suffered fearfully on the route, and many died. On 
the 18th of October, they were exchanged, and poor 
Pike, reduced to a skeleton, and almost in a dying state, 
was taken to the Cliff burn hospital at Washington. 
Here, for some months, he lay almost hopelessly ill, but 
in March, 18C3, had recovered sufficiently to join his 
regiment. 

Here he was soon again at his old work. Riding out 
one day some distance beyond the lines with a lieu- 
tenant of his company, they met an old negro preacher, 
who told them that there was a large body of rebel 
soldiers not far oK Corporal Pike requested the lieu- 
tenant to return to Murfreesboro wdiile he went to see 
where the rebels were. After some scouting he dis- 
covered them, about one hundred and fifty in number, at 
the foot of a considerable hill ; his position being above 
them, and two of their men, one mounted and the other 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 53 

on foot, being near him, he approached and ordered them- 
to halt, and as they fled repeated the order and fired, 
mortally wounding the mounted one, and then reloading, 
fired at the one on foot, whom he also wounded severely, 
and then in a loud voice called out ^^ Forward tJie Fourth /• 
Forward the Fourth Ohio !" Hearino; the name of that- 
regiment, which was a terror to the rebels in all that 
region, the whole rebel troop took to their horses and 
fled at the top of their speed (abandoning, as he after- 
ward learned, a large forage train) toward Auburn, 
seven miles distant. After seeing them well started 
Pike rode off toward Murfreesboro. Stopping at a house 
which they had passed, he told the woman to tell them, 
when they returned, that there was but one man in the 
attacking party, and that he said he had flogged one 
hundred and fifty of them and could do it again. 

He next explored the rebel position at Woodbury, 
Tennessee, dodging and frightening tlie rebel pickets by 
some sharp practice, and on his return accompanied 
General Stanley in his raid on the rebel camps near 
Middleton, Tennessee, and while acting as aide to 
Colonel (acting Brigadier-General) Long, had some very 
narrow escapes, being at one time for a considerable 
period under the steady and continuous fire of a squad 
of rebel soldiers. 

Starting soon after on a scouting expedition in the 
vicinity of Harpeth Shoals, he found himself among a 
band of guerillas, with whom he passed himself ofl' as 
a Texan ranger, and learned from one of them the pur- 
poses of the rebel officers, and especially their intention 
of arresting and sending South a Union lady, the wife 
of a brave Union officer, then in that vicinity. Pr.)- 



54 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

fessing an intention of going to the rebel camp, he ascer- 
tained the truth of the information he had received, 
and then riding to the house of the imperiled Union 
lady, he informed her of her danger, caught her a horse, 
and accompanied her to Nashville, avoiding by means 
of by-roads the rebel pickets. 

The forward movement of Rosecrans' army on Chat- 
tanooga had now commenced, and Corporal Pike was 
sent by General Stanley as a scout to search for some 
steamboats on the Hiawassee. While on this expedition 
he passed through the region where he was captured 
the year before, and after frightening relatives of the 
man who had betrayed him, he went up to the summit 
of Cumberland mountain, and near Cowan, in a narrow 
and crooked pass of the mountain, discovered that the 
rebels were blockading the gap, with the intention of 
cutting off and destroying any Union troops who might 
pass that way. They had felled some timber, but had 
not put much of it in position. There were about 
twenty rebel soldiers, who were guarding the gap and 
directing a force of fifty or more negroes who were 
felling the trees. Finding his position a safe one, Pike 
determined to put a stop to this proceeding, and accord- 
ingly fired at the evident leader of the movement, and 
the bullet striking his horse he was thrown and severely 
injured, and the whole band of rebels were thrown into 
confusion ; firing again. Pike ordered an imaginary com- 
rade to run back and tell the regiment to hurry up, and 
then turning sent another shot whizzing among them, 
while he ordered a pretended body of skirmishers to 
come down from the opposite ridge and close in with 
the rebels, accompanying this order with such gestures 







THE LEAP FOR LIFE. 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 55 

as to lead the rebels, who could see him, to believe that 
he was pointing them out to his friends. Firing again, 
he shouted " hurrah, boys, we'll surround them !" and 
the rebels fled in the greatest terror, the negroes shui- 
lling along after them. As soon as they were gone he 
crossed the pass to the opposite ridge, and followed the 
top of the ridge the remainder of that day and night, 
and till nine o'clock the following morning, whoi he 
was startled by hearing the sound of horses' feet behind 
him, stopping a moment and listening, he ascertained 
that there were about a dozen of them. He attempted 
to elude their observation by running out upon a spur 
which branched off from the main mountain, but the 
timber was open and they caught sight of him and im- 
mediately pursued. The mountain was steep, but they 
gained upon him, and although at first he seemed likel}'- 
to escape, he soon came to the top of a cliff about three 
hundred feet high ; turning to the right a few hundred 
yards, he again found a place where he could descend for 
some distance, but was then stopped hy another cliff, 
which projected out like a shelf Below the right-hand 
end of this cliff, a huge hickory tree was growing, and 
its shaggy top just reared itself above the shelf on which 
he stood, the trunk being about eight feet from the edge 
of the cliff. There was no time to lose, for already he could 
hear his pursuers clattering over the rocks above him ; so 
running to the edge of the cliff and looking over the giddy 
height, he slung his rifle across his back and leaping out 
headforemost, with all his strength, succeeded in grasp- 
ing the body of the tree with his arms and holding, 
although the weight of his accoutrements almost jerked 
him oft*. Slidhig rapidly down the tree he landed on 



56 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

another bench of the mountain, from which, though with 
torn clothing and his hands, arms, and breast bleeding 
profusely from wounds received from the rough bark of 
the tree, he made his way down into the bottom of a 
deep ravine, and neither saw nor heard any thing more 
of his pursuers. Following the ravine to the base of the 
mountain he was an involuntary witness to the patriotic 
devotion of a loyal Tennessee family, tlie husband and 
father of which had been obliged to conceal himself for 
months to escape the rebel conscription, and his devoted 
wife had brought him food until such time as he could 
join the Union army. 

Continuing his search for the steamboats, he came 
upon the home of " Bob White," on Walden Ridge. 
"White was a thorough Unionist and the leader of a 
body of thirty to sixty Union Tennesseans, bush- 
wackers, who were the terror of the rebel cavalry in 
that region. He was welcomed by White's family and 
remained with them one night, though the rebel cavalry 
came to the house in search of him, and White's men 
also called him up, fearing he might be a spy. After 
stirring up the rebels at one or two points, and again 
finding shelter for two or three nights among the perse- 
cuted East Tennessee Unionists, attending one of their 
religious meetings where every man was armed, and the 
services were conducted, like those of the Covenanters 
three hundred years ago, after night and in the conceal- 
ment of the forest, lest their enemies should come 
upon them. 

In the battle of Chickamauga, as well as in the 
marches and skirmishes which preceded it, Corporal 
Pike was actively employed as a scout, ajid was much 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 57 

of the time in imminent peril, while he rendered excel- 
lent service to the Union army. Leaving the Union 
army at Chattanooga, he next set out with General 
Crook's cavalry in pursuit of Wheeler's rebel cavalry, 
which had been attempting to break up the Union lines 
of communication with Nashville, where he had his share 
in some of the most desperate cavalry fighting of the 
war, being on two occasions the target of the enemy's 
rifles, and once of their artillery. Having arrived at 
Brownsboro, General Crook sent him with an important 
despatch from General Grant to General Sherman, 
whose location was not definitely known, though he was 
supposed to be not far from Corinth. The journey was 
a perilous one and the chances of success, to say the 
least, small ; but the brave fellow did not hesitate for a 
moment, and taking a canoe at Whitesburg, opposite 
Huntsville, he descended the Tennessee river for more 
than a hundred miles, every mile of which was picketed 
by the enemy, ran the perilous rapids of the Muscle 
Shoals, forty miles in length, alone, and after being pur- 
sued and fired at by the rebels repeatedly landed near Tus- 
cumbia, where he found Union troops, and was sent by 
special train to luka, where General Sherman was, but 
immediately on delivering the despatch he sunk down 
exhausted and fainting from intense fatigue. General 
Sherman, who is ever chary of his praise, so fully ap- 
preciated the daring and skill of this achievement, that 
he gave the corporal a testimonial in which he spoke of 
him in the highest terms. Returning to Chattanooga, he 
took part in the great battles of November 23-25. 

In a subsequent scouting expedition at the beginning 
of 1864, they Ibund that a certain rebel. Colonel W. C. 



58 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES 

Walker, who had commanded a brigade at Cumberland 
Gap, had returned to his home in Cherokee county, N. 
C, with plenary conscripting powers, and was endeavor- 
ing to force every Union man in the region into the 
rebel army, committing, at the same time, great out- 
rages on the families of the Unionists. Pike and his 
companions resolved to take this villain prisoner and 
convey him to Chattanooga. Pike's party consisted of 
ten scouts and a few citizens, and on New Year's night 
they went to Walker's house, surrounded it, and called 
on him to surrender. He demanded who they were, 
and being told that they were Yankee soldiers, and that 
if he gave himself up he should be treated like a gentle- 
man, and be regarded as a prisoner of war, he refused 
with an oath ; and Pike then informed him that resist- 
ance would be useless, that his house was surrounded, 
and that they would take him, dead or alive. He 
answered, " I will surrender when I please." Pike and 
his scouts, knowing that he had a body-guard constantly 
about him, now resolved to storm the house, and broke 
in the doors, front and rear. Walker retreated to an 
inner room, and still refused to surrender, making a 
stand with the evident intention of selling his life as 
dearly as possible. The doors of this room also having 
been broken in. Pike aimed at him with his pistol, again 
demanding his surrender ; but he raised his Sharp's car- 
bine to shoot Pike. Seeing, however, that the latter 
had the advantage of him, he replied, after a moment's 
hesitation, '' Yes, boys, I'll surrender," and partly turned 
to lay his carbine on the bed, when his wife caught Pike's 
arm, and with a sudden jerk destroyed his aim. Walker 
now wheeled instantly, caught up his gun, and again 



LIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 59 

raised it to shoot Pike, but delayed for an instant, his 
daughter being between them, and Pike called to his 
men to shoot, as he saw Walker was determined to kill 
him, and Jack Cook, of the 37th Indiana, fired, and 
killed him instantly. By this time. Walker's body- 
guard were heard in another part of the house, and the 
daring scouts instantly attacked and captured them, 
without firing a shot, and took them all but two to 
Charleston, Tenn. After some months spent in scout- 
ing, and the destruction of rebel property, under the 
direction of General Custer, Colonel Miller, and General 
Logan, Pike and a brother scout, Charles A. Gray, were 
sent by direction of General Thomas to Augusta, Ga., 
to endeavor to destroy the great bridge over the Savan- 
nah river, and, if possible, also the immense powder- 
mill which supplied most of the powder for the rebel 
armies. Having obtained their outfit at Nashville, they 
set out on their perilous undertaking, going by way of 
Chattanooga and Rocky Faced Ridge. The great cam- 
paigns of Sherman and Grant had now commenced, and 
it was of the greatest importance to prevent the two 
rebel generals Johnston and Lee from sending troops 
or supplies to each other. The destruction of the rail- 
road bridge at Augusta would materially derange their 
communications, and once destroyed, it could not be 
repaired for months. Having taken part in the battle 
of Rocky Faced Ridge, the two scouts proceeded thence 
to the Charleston turnpike, and thence went on foot, over 
the region which Pike had traversed the preceding win- 
ter, and where Colonel Walker had been killed, and 
found the rebels still in terror over that event ; scaled 
the Blue Ridge on the 20th of May, and descending its 



60 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

eastern slope, came to the head waters of the TaUulah 
river, remarkable for its numerous cataracts. They 
followed this stream to its junction with the Chattooga, 
the two forming the Tugalo, one of the two affluents of 
the Savannah river. Procuring a canoe, they floated 
down this stream, which had numerous rapids, and 
thence entered the Savannah, which above Augusta is 
a very rapid and rocky stream. They reached Ham- 
burg, opposite Augusta, on the 3d of June, 1864, and 
concealed themselves where they could overlook both 
cities ; but to their surprise and annoyance, they found 
that there were great numbers of Union prisoners there 
(twelve or fifteen hundred), on their way to Anderson- 
ville, and a large body of rebel troops guarding them, 
and that it would be utterly impossible for them to 
make any eftbrt to accomplish their object, and nearly 
so to make their escape. The latter was all they could 
attempt, and during the night they got off and attempted 
to retrace their steps. They stole a couple of horses and 
rode them rapidly till morning, but were then overtaken 
and conipelled to give up the horses, though their real 
character and objects were not suspected. Starting off, 
then, on foot, they made the best of their way toward the 
northwest, but two hours later they heard the baying 
of the bloodhounds, and knew that they were pursued. 
They made every eflfort to break the trail, passing 
through swamps and streams, doubling in their tracks, 
etc., etc., but all to no purpose. 

The pack of hounds was thirty-six in number, and 
just after nightfall their loud baying showed that they 
were close upon them ; and in the midst of a dense 
thicket, the two men were compelled to stand at bay 




'HWT^^", .^--"^--r 



f4% '^^^"-:J 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 61 

and fight with the savage brutes, and the equally savage 
men who had used the dogs to hunt them down. On 
came the hounds through the thick undergrowth, making 
the deep forest echo with their savage baying, until, with 
a sudden bound, the leading dog was upon the fugitives, 
his eyes glaring, and his mouth foaming. For an instant 
he paused, as he saw them through the gloom, and the 
next he made a spring directly at Gray's face. He was 
large and snow-white, and this made him the better 
target, and as he sprang Pike turned upon him and 
fired, and he fell dead in an instant But at that mo- 
ment the whole pack rushed upon them, and they could 
only distinguish them by their glaring eyes in the dark- 
ness, but they aimed at those, and killed one more and 
wounded four others, with nine shots, when the men 
came up, forcing their horses through the brush, cursing 
and swearing like madmen. When they had approached 
within about a hundred yards, the two scouts ordered 
them to halt, saying, that if they did not stop, they 
would fire on them. 

" Who are you ?" demanded one of the men. 

" Yankee soldiers," answered Pike. 

" What are you doing in our country ?" 

" We are here by order of our general." 

" How many are there of you?" 

'' Two." 

"Are you up a tree ?" 
^'No ! we are not the sort of men to take to trees !" 

Then moving toward them, Pike said : " There are 
but two of us, but we are well armed, and can do you a 
great deal of damage if you drive us to it. We know 
that you have a strong force after us, for we have seen 



62 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

you two or tliree times to-day ; we know that i*esistajice 
on our part would only result in useless bloodshed ; still 
it is our privilege to sell our lives at as dear a price as 
we can make you pay ; but we don't want to hurt you, 
nor do we want you to hurt us ; and therefore, if you 
will agree to treat us as prisoners of war, we will surren- 
der without a light, because we see that one would be 
useless." 

" You will soon be made to surrender on our terms," 
replied the ix»bels. 

*' Then approach us at your peril," answered Pike, 
''for we shall shoot as long a« we can crook a finger." 

Resolute as this reply was, they were in lact helpless; 
their ammunition exhausted, and the four or five charges 
in their pistols had all been tried on the dogs, but had 
tailed to go off from the foulness of the Aveapons. 

While this parley had been going on, another large 
party had come up, and the two Aveix> disputing among 
themselves. Pivsently they hailed the two scouts pleiir 
santly, "'Halloo, Yank." *• Halloo yourself," was the 
answer. *• If you will surrender, we will treat you as 
prisoners of war, and there shall not one hair of your 
head be touched," said the commander of the party. 
"All right," iuiswered the scouts, "on these conditions, 
and no others, you can have our arms. Let two men 
come over and take our w^eapons," they asked. The 
rebels consented, but demanded that they should fire 
them in the air iii*st. The scouts could not do tliis, be- 
cause the attempt would show how helpless they were, 
but they objected on the ground that it evinced a lack 
of confidence in their honor. The ix^bel comnnuider 
then oitiered them to stand still and they would come 



NAKIIATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. G3 

to thorn. They did so, and when completely surrounded, 
gave up their arms, Gray joking with them freely. No 
sooner were the arms delivered, than a part of the 
rebels changed their manner, and began to abuse them, 
a man by the name of Chamberlain, a renegade from 
Massachusetts, who it seemed owned the bloodhounds, 
swearing that if they had shot one of the dogs he would 
kill them. They now set out on their return toward 
Augusta, or rather toward Edgefield, S. C, and stopped 
at the house of a Mr. Series, who treated them kindly, 
aiid endeavored to pacify the drunken crowd who were 
taking them along, as did his wife ; but his two daugh- 
ters went among the gang, and l)egged them to hang 
the two Yankees. ''Don't let them live, men! don't 
let them live !" they said, and by their urgency they 
had soon " fired the Southern heart" up nearly to the 
point of murder. Mr. Series exerted himself to the 
utmost, however, to quiet them, and they finally were 
allowed their supper, and moved off to the house of 
Lieut. Col. Talbot, one of their captors. Here they 
were allowed an hour or two sleep, and on awakening 
in the morning, found that the party who had captured 
them had all left, and that they were in the hands of a 
party of drunken militia, who did not regard themselves 
as bound in any respect by the stipulations of their cap- 
tors. These brutes roused them up, tied them very 
securely, and then marched them to the woods near by, 
and made preparations to hang them. They began with 
Pike, and having their rope ready, asked him if he had 
any confession to make? 

"No," was his reply. " I have nothing to confess to 
you." 



04 NAUKATIVES OF SI'iKS, SCOUTS, AND DKTECTIVES. 

'' Do you desire to pray?" they asked. 

" No," was liis reply again. '' T am ready to die, and 
don't fear death." 

"Have you nothing to say?" tliey asked, astonished 
at his coohiess. 

" Yes," he replied, " I have something to say that may 
interest you." 

'''Out with it then," said one. 

lie then told them very coolly that they were United 
States soldiers, acting in the discharge of their duties, 
and that they, as citizens, had no right to interrupt them; 
that the general under whose orders they (the scouts) 
were acting would retaliate promptly if a hair of their 
heads were injured, and their sons in the Confederate 
army might be the men on whom the retaliation would 
fall. lie told them farther, that he and Gray belonged 
to dilferent regiments, and that if they were hung, their 
regiments, which were sure to come thither, would 
burn every dollar's worth of property they possessed, 
and hang every man concerned in the transaction. '' If," 
he continued, " you are prepared to abide these conse- 
quences, I am." 

The ringleaders now Avithdrew for a short time, for 
consultation, leaving the two scouts under a guard. 
After a little they returned, took them back to Talbot's 
house, and untied them, and Mrs. Talbot gave them 
a bountiful breakfast. Talbot himself was a villain ; 
lie had attempted the preceding night to murder 
them, after giving his pledge that not a hair of their 
lieads should be touched, and had only failed because 
his gun would not go off. He and Chamberlnin now 
promised to take them to Edgefield, and as they had 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 05 

been forewarned that a crowd had assembled on the 
lower road to murder them, they asked to be taken by 
the upper route, and their captors finally consented. 
Arriving at Edgefield, the provost-marshal, who desired 
to have them murdered by a mob, refused to receive 
them from the militia, but a rebel lieutenant who was 
there, overruled him and ordered them to be j)ut in the 
jail, subject to the orders of the military authorities at 
Augusta. Here, they ^vere examined very closely, and 
questioned carefully, separately ; but as they had buried 
all their bridge-burning fixtures before leaving Hamburg, 
and had agreed upon the statements th(;y were to make, 
there was no such thing as entangling them. On the 
9th of June, they were taken to Augusta. Here, they 
were confined on the smallest possible allowance of food, 
for fifty-seven days, when they were re.noved under a 
strong guard to Charleston, where they wore put in the 
tower of the jail and kept five months under fire from 
the Union batteries. Vigorous efibrts were made to pro- 
cure their exchange, by the highest ofiicers of the Union 
army, but in vain. When General Sherman's march 
through the Carolinas compelled the evacuation of 
Charleston, they were removed to Columbia, and when 
that was threatened, they were sent to Winnsboro on 
foot, with the intention of taking them to Salisbury, 
North Carolina, but on the way both escaped, Gray 
getting away first, and Pike the next night, February 
18th, 1865, and after wandering about for two days, the 
lattcT found his way into the Union lines, where Gray 
had preceded him. 

He was most cordially received and fitted out in con- 
nection with Kilpatrick's command, and when General 

5 



66 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

Slierman reached Cheraw, was sent to carry despatches 
to Wihiiington which was then occupied by the Union 
troops under Generals Schofield and Terry. The 
journey was a j^erilous one, as lie descended Cape Fear 
river from the mouth of Rockfish creek, a distance of 
more tlian a hundred miles, in an open boat ; and the 
whole shore of the river was lined with rebel troops. 
Having reached Wilmington in safety and delivered his 
despatches, he was immediately requested to carry de- 
spatches also to Newbern and Kinston, where he found 
General Schofield. Three hours after the delivery of 
these, General Schofield entrusted him with a despatch for 
General Sherman which he wished taken across the 
country. He started immediately, and after a long and 
somewhat dangerous tramp (for he could only go on foot 
in safety), he reached the general near Faison's depot. 
After the battle of Bentonville he applied for and re- 
ceived his discharge, having been in the service seven 
months over the time for which he had enlisted, and on 
the 1st of April, 1865, was mustered out at Columbus. 
It would be hard, we think, to find in the history of any 
war, an instance of a scout or spy who had encountered 
more dangers, hardships, and risks, or surmounted them 
more gallantly than Corporal James Pike. 



A FEMALE SCOUT AND SPY. 

During the war, a very considerable number of women 
nave entered the secret service of the commanders of the 
Union armies, and perhaps quite as many, or more, 
have been employed by the rebel generals in obtaining 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. G7 

information of the situation and purposes of the Union 
troops. The adventures of many of these, for obvious 
reasons, have not as yet been made public, and some of 
them may perhaps never be recorded. Among them 
have been a number of actresses, whose profession has 
given them extraordinary facilities for this service, and 
whose intense loyalty has caused them to run fearful 
risks to render it service. Of some of these we shall 
have occasion to speak by-and-by. One of the most 
adroit and successful of these was not an actress, nor a 
native of the United States. Miss S. E. E. Edmonds, 
better known, perhaps, as " The Nurse and Spy," is a 
native of the province of New Brunswick, and having 
an earnest desire to acquire a superior education, with 
a view to becoming a foreign missionary, and possessing 
besides an energetic and independent disposition, came 
to the United States, we believe, in 1859 or 1860, and 
for a time acted as a canvasser for some books published 
in Hartford, Conn. When the war broke out, she at 
once resolved to devote herself to the work of nursing 
the sick and wounded soldiers in the hospitals, and 
went to Washington for that purpose. After spending 
eight or nine months in this duty, she learned that one 
of the spies in General McClellan's service had been 
captured by the rebels in Richmond, and executed, and 
that it was necessary that his place should be filled. 
Miss Edmonds was daring and resolute, capable of en- 
during an extraordinary amount of fatigue, an accom- 
plished equestrienne, and a capital shot, and possessed 
of quick and ready perceptions, and great intelligence, 
while her powers of impersonation were unrivalled. 
She applied for the position, and was accepted after a 



G8 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

very thorough examination. Her first disguise was 
that of a negro boy. Passing safely through the Union 
hnes, and past the rebel pickets, she entered the suburbs 
of Yorktown, and met with some negroes who were car- 
rying out supplies to the pickets. Mingling with these, 
the pretended contraband soon attracted the attention 
of a young rebel officer, who demanded, " Who do you 
belong to, and why are you not at work?" "I doesn't 
b'long to nobody, massa ; I'se free, and allers was ; I'se 
gwyne to Richmond to work," was the reply. The offi- 
cer, apparently astonished that a free negro should aver 
his freedom, ordered him immediately set to work wheel- 
ing gravel up a parapet about eight feet high, for 
strengthening the works, and ordered that he should 
receive twenty lashes if he did not do his work well. 
The work was very severe, even for a strong and robust 
man, and though the negroes comprising the gang helped 
what they could, yet before night the hands of the 
pseudo-contraband were blistered from the wrists to the 
tips of the fingers, and she was completely exhausted. 
After resting a little, however, she made an inspection 
of the fortifications, sketched them, ascertained the num- 
ber, size, and position of the guns, carefully concealing 
her notes between the soles of her contraband shoes. 
Secmring the services of a young negro to take her place 
the next day on the parapet, she entered upon the easier 
service of carrying water to a brigade stationed near the 
rebel headquarters. Here she obtained some important 
information in regard to the numbers and intentions of 
the rebels, and detected a rebel spy, who, under the 
guise of a peddler, had often visited the Union head- 
quarters, and who had caused the death of one of 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 69 

McClellan's staff officers, a friend of Miss Edmunds. 
At night, going out to the picket lines, the pretended 
contraband was entrusted with a fine rifle, and put upon 
picket duty. Availing herself of the opportunity, she 
now escaped to the Union lines, bringing her rifle as a 
trophy, and soon after reported at headquarters. Ilcr 
next expedition was under the guise of an old Irish 
woman, engaged in peddling cakes, etc., among the 
rebel soldiers. This was soon after McClellan had 
reached the banks of the Chickahominy. Losing her 
way in the Chickahominy swamps, she suffered from a 
violent attaclv of fever and ague, and for two days lay 
in the swamp without food or shelter, her stock of food 
having been spoiled in crossing the Chickahominy. On 
the third day she was roused by heavy firing, and 
crawling in the direction whence it proceeded, came 
soon to an opening and a small frame house, which had 
been deserted by its inhabitants, but in which she found 
a dying rebel officer. She ransacked the house for arti- 
cles of food, and succeeded in finding a little meal and 
some tea, and soon prepared a tolerable meal for the 
dying soldier, who had been some days without food, 
and also something to stay her own hunger. Being 
unable, from exhaustion, to go upon her mission, and 
finding that the poor man had but a few hours to live, 
she cared for him as tenderly as she could, and before 
he died, he gave her his watch and papers, with direc- 
tions to deliver them to Major McKee, of General 
Ewell's staff, and expressed his gratitude to her for her 
kindness. 

After his death, she rested for a short time, and then 
gathering from the house what supplies she could, to 



70 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

make up an outfit for her assumed character, she wended 
her way to the rebel camp, five or six miles distant, and 
having ascertained what she could of the position and 
intentions of the rebels, and the location of the batteries 
thev had concealed along the route of the approach of 
the Union army, she sought Major McKee, but was 
obliged to wait till five P. M. before she could see him. 
He was very much aflected at the intelligence of Captain 
Hairs death, and oftered to reward her, but she would 
accept no reward. He then requested her to guide a 
detachment of his men to the place where the captain 
luul died. As she was really unable to walk that dis- 
tance, at her request he furnished her with a horse to 
ride. The loiie house w'as on debatable ground, and there 
was reason to fear that the Union troops might fall upon 
them while engaged in this humane work; but they 
reached the place in safety and found the body, and the 
conmiander of the detachment requesting her to ride 
down the road and see if there were any Yankees in 
sight, she complied with his request very willingly, and 
became so much interested in her search that she did 
not draw rein till she arrived in the Union camp, when 
she reported her discoveries, and prevented the army 
from falling into the traps set for them. The horse thus 
taken from the enemy, though spirited, proved a vicious 
brute, and with its teeth and heels came near costing 
her her life. At the battle of Fair Oaks, she acted as 
orderly to General Kearny, and twice swam the Chick- 
ahominy to hurry forward reinforcements for the sorely 
pi^ssed Union troops. In the retreat across the Penin- 
sula, she was again repeatedly under fire, while serving 
as orderh" or on detached dntv with the wounded ; and 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 71 

under the assumed name of Frank Thompson took part 
in most of the battles of that famous retreat. During 
the last few da3's of Pope's campaign, she was sent three 
times into the enemy's camp, and under diflerent dis- 
guises ; once as a negress ; and again, in other characters, 
she penetrated to their headquarters, and brought away, 
not only information of their intended movements, but 
valuable orders and papers. 

After the battle of Antietam, when following Lee 
back to the Rapidan, while on detached service, a body 
of cavalry with whom Miss Edmonds was travelling, 
were attacked by guerillas and her horse killed under 
her, and she herself seriously injured and robbed. 
Union troops soon came up, however, and defeated the 
guerillas and restored her money. In the battle of Fred- 
ericksburg, under her assumed nan^e of Frank Thomp- 
son, she acted as aid-de-camp to General Hancock, and 
was under fire during the whole period. After General 
Hooker took command of the Army of the Potomac, she 
went to the Western army, overtaking at Louisville the 
Ninth Army Corps, to which she had been for some time 
attached. 

Here she was not long in resuming her former voca- 
tion as a spy, and having aided in the capture of some 
rebel prisoners, she donned the butternut garb, and as a 
Kentuckian, sympathizing with the rebels, wandered 
into their camp, but was presently pounced upon by a 
rebel cavalry captain and conscripted into service ; but 
having to go into action before taking the oath, the con- 
script managed to get upon the Union side, and wounded 
severely, though not mortally, the rebel captain who 
had attempted to secure her services. As the duty of a 



72 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

spy after this ^vas likely to be extra hazardous, the 
commanding general detailed Miss Edmonds to detec- 
tive duty in Louisville, and with great skill and tact 
she managed to detect and secure the capture of several 
rebel spies then in the city. She next visited Vicksburg, 
and after serving some time in the hospitals there as a 
nurse, was compelled by broken health to leave the army 
for a time. 



The Irish Sentinel. — A son of the Green Isle, a new 
member of Colonel Cillem's Midcjlc Tennessee regiment, 
while stationed at Nashville recently, was detailed on 
guard duty on a prominent street of that city. It was 
his first experience at guard-mounting, and he strutted 
along his beat apparently with a full appreciation of the 
dignity and importance of liis position. As a citizen 
approached, he shouted — 

-' Halt ! Who comes there ?" 

"A citizen," was the response. 

"Advance, citizen, and give the countersign." 

''I haven't the countersign; and, if I had, the de- 
mand lor it at this time and place is something very 
strange and unusual," rejoined the citizen. 

*'An', by the howly Moses, ye don't pass this way at 
all till ye say Bunker Hill," was Pat's reply. 

The citizen, appreciating the '' situation," advanced 
and cautiously whispered in his ear the necessary words. 

" Right ! Pass on." And the wide awake sentinel 
resumed his beat. 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 73 

ADVENTURES OF HARRY NEWCOMER. 

A SCOUT AND SPY IN THE ARMY OP THE CUMBERLAND. 

Among the many spies and detectives employed by the 
commanders of the Union armies, in procurinj^ inforniii- 
tion concerning the condition, purposes, and position of 
the enemy, or the evil deeds of rebel sympathizers, none 
perhaps, has passed through more interesting adventures, 
than he whose name appears at the head of this sketch. 
We have compiled from the police record of the •" An- 
nals of the Army of the Cumberland," the following 
history of some of his adventures and escapes. 

Harry Newcomer is a native of Pennsylvania, and was 
born ill Lancaster county, in March, 1829. He was 
born and brought up in a hotel, and was employed as a 
bar tender in liis boyhood. At the age of fourteen, his 
mother died, and his father broke up housekeeping, and 
soon afterward he was apprenticed to a miller in Ohio. 
After serving out his time, he continued for some years 
in tlie business, until his brother-in-law was elected 
sherilf of Ashland county, Ohio, when he was appointed 
one of his deputies. In 1857, he removed to Cleveland, 
and was emplo3^ed by United States Marshal Jal)ez 
Fitch, as a detective oilicer. He retained this situation 
for about three years, and was successful in ferreting out 
and bringing to punishment a nmnbcr of noted cases of 
crime, especially of counterfeiters. At that time the 
authorities had ascertained that a large business was 
done in the manufacture and sale of counterfeit money 
in Geauga county, Ohio, but all attempts to obtain any 
positive evidence to fasten the guilt upon the suspected 



74 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

parties had failed. Newcomer had ah-eady acquired a 
high reputation as a shrewd and successful detective, 
and it was determined to set him at work upon the case. 
He was instructed to make the acquaintance of an old 
blacksmith, named Jesse Bowen, who cultivated also a 
small farm in the vicinity of Burton Square in that 
count}^ Bowen was notoriously a lawless, bad man, 
and had been for many years engaged in all manner of 
frauds and crimes, but had managed to escape detection 
and punishment. He was now seventy-eight years of 
age, a friendless, unsocial old villain, whose house was 
shunned by all who cared for their reputation or candor. 
Newcomer introduced himself to him as William H. 
Hall, an extensive manufacturer and dealer in counter- 
feit money. He had with him, as evidence of his be- 
longing to the fraternity, considerable amounts of coun- 
terfeit bills on various banks, with which he had been 
abundantly supplied. After two or three interviews, by 
that sort of fascination with which he is so eminently 
endowed, he succeeded in winning completely the old 
man's confidence, and learned from him the names of 
all those who were connected with the gang of counter- 
feiters. He did more than this. Won by the apparent 
cordiality of Newcomer, who assisted him on his little 
farm, he unearthed his machinery and engaged with 
him in the manufacture of bogus coin, gave him the 
pass-word, and introduced him to all the members of the 
gang, with whom he was presently on the best of terms. 
In an excess of communicativeness, Bowen one day 
called young Newcomer into an orchard and revealed to 
him, in confidence, that he and his brother had, in early 
life, murdered their brother-in-law, in Vermont, and that 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 75 

they had only been saved from the gallows, by a man 
being found who bore a remarkably strong resemblance 
to the murdered man, and who was induced to swear that 
he was the man supposed to be killed. This was the 
celebrated Corbin case so often referred to, in criminal 
trials. 

Having finally implicated the entire gang of counter- 
feiters, and acquired a thorough knowledge of their 
haunts and residences. Newcomer plead that urgent 
business called him away, and repairing to Cleveland, 
reported progress to the United States Marshal, and 
officers were sent, and the whole number arrested, tried, 
convicted, and sent to the j)enitentiary. 

In 1860, he removed to Pittsburg, Pennsylvania, 
where he was soon employed in the detection and ar- 
rest of a noted counterfeiter, named Charles Coventry, 
a man of gigantic strength, and the terror of the whole 
region. This was accomplished with his usual adroit- 
ness, and the desperate villain trapped, tried, convicted, 
and sent to prison for five years. In about a year, he 
had succeeded in detecting and bringing to justice sixty- 
eight criminals, counterfeiters, burglars, horse thieves, 
and villains of all sort. In 1861, his extraordinary suc- 
cess having excited the jealousy of the other detectives 
of Pittsburg, he removed to Chicago, but finding no em- 
ployment which suited him, he enlisted as a non-com- 
missioned officer in the Eleventh Indiana Battery. With 
this battery he served throughout Buell's campaign to 
Nashville and Shiloh, to Corinth and Huntsville, Ala- 
bama, when the old love of adventure coming upon him, 
he began to act as a scout on his own account, reporting, 
when any thing of interest came to his knowledge, to 



76 NARKATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS,, AND DETECTIVES. 

Colonel, aftei'T\'ard General Harker. of the Sixty-fifth Ohio 
Volunteers, ^vho then eomniandod the brigade to which 
he was attached. The colonel, pleased with his skill 
and adroitness, gave him passes and encouraged him to 
continue to make these scouting expeditions as he had 
opportunity. 

Frequently he would go down to the Tennessee river 
in sight of the rebel pickets ; and one night he conclu- 
ded to cross the river and get a nearer view of them. 
Striking the sti'eam at a point three miles from Steven- 
son, he built a raft of rails and paddled himself across. 
Crawling up the bank through the bush, he came close 
upon the pickets, seven in number, without being ob- 
served. After M'atching their movements awhile, and 
finding nothing of particular interest, he returned safely 
as he went. Soon afterward, a negro told him of an 
island in the Tennessee river, some ten miles below Ste- 
venson, on which a company of guerilla cavalry were 
in the habit of rendezvousing every night. This opened 
a large field of operations for our scout, and he deter- 
mined to visit the island forthwith. One afternooon, 
borrowing a suit of butternut from a negro at Stevenson, 
he set forth in that direction. The butternut clothes 
were carried under his saddle until he was fairly outside 
of our lines, when he exchanged his own for them and 
went on in the character of a genuine native. Reach- 
ing the river opposite the island after dark, he again 
constructed a raft of rails, fastenins: them toc;ether this 
time with grape-vines, and shoved across tlie narrow 
channel to the island, landing in a dense canebrake. 
(Carefully feeling liis way through this, he came soon to 
a corn-crib, around which twenty-five or tliirty horses 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 77 

were feeding. It was now ten o'clock, and quite dark, 
but clear and starlight. Examining the crib, the en- 
« trance was discovered about half-way up, and our ad- 
venturer at once clambered up and put his head and 
shoulders through. Careful listening revealed the pres- 
ence of sleepers within. Putting his hand down to 
see how far it was to them, it came in contact with the 
body of a man. Wishing to know in what direction he 
was lying, he felt along carefully and came upon a pis- 
tol in his belt. Working at this, he soon drew it out, 
and, finding it a good Colt's revolver, put it into his 
pocket and got down again. Exploring around, he came 
to a corn patch and a cabin near by, in which there 
seemed, from the noise within, to be a family or two of 
negroes. Crossing to the south or rebel side of the 
island, he found that the stream was much narrower 
there than on the other side, and that close to the shore 
a number of boats and scows, in which the band crossed 
and recrossed, were tied. It was now time to. think 
about getting home, and he circled around the crib and 
cabin to reach the place where he had left his raft. 
When he came in sight of it, there was also to be seen 
a human form standing by the water's edge and appar- 
ently regarding the raft with no little astonishment. In 
the uncertain light, it was impossible to tell whether it 
was man or woman, white or black; and there was 
nothing to do but wait until it disappeared. Crouching 
down amid the canes, he soon saw it turn and begin to 
climb the bank directly toward him ; as a precautionary 
measure he took out the pistol and cocked it, though he 
could not see or feel whether it was loaded or not. The 
person proved to be a negro, and passed by, unconscious 



78 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

of the pi'esence of any one so near, soliloquizing to him- 
self thus : — '' Mighty quare boat dat ar; 'spec's some of 
Masser John's work." This danger having passed, our 
self-appointed spy descended, and re-embarked on his 
raft. Lest any one should see him, he lay flat upon it, 
paddling with extended arms, the whole presenting very 
much the appearance of a floating mass of drift wood. 
By the time he reached the opposite shore his butter- 
nut suit was pretty thoroughl}^ soaked, but without 
stopping to dry it, he mounted his horse, which he found 
straying about the woods, rode on to Stevenson, and 
reported to Colonel Harker. An expedition for the cap- 
ture of this band — afterward ascertained to be Captain 
Eountree's company — was just about starting, when or- 
ders W'Cre received to evacuate the place and fall back 
to Nashville with the remainder of Buell's army. 

The battery went no farther backward than Nashville, 
remaining there during the famous investment of the 
city and until the Army of the Cumberland again 
reached it. Meanwhile, Newcomer was occasionally 
employed by General Negley as a detective ; but most 
of the time was spent with his command. Early in 
December the police and scout system was fully organ- 
ized and in successful operation. Our former scout, 
thinking that he could serve the Government to better 
advantage in the business with which he was so familiar, 
made application to Colonel Truesdail for employment as 
a scout and spy. The colonel, pleased with his appearance 
and conversation, at once made an engagement with him, 
and procured his detail for that special service. Having 
previously made the acquaintance of one Cale Harrison, 
a livery-stable-keeper, he now called on him, and, ex- 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 79 

liibitmg a forged certificate of discharge, told him that 
he was on his way to tlie rebel army. Harrison, of 
course, was highly pleased to hear it, and gave him 
some valuable hints and information for his guidance in 
the matter. There was, he said, a man living on the 
Charlotte pike, by the name of Spence, whose son was 
an aide-de-camp on the staff of General Polk, and who 
would undoubtedly assist him in getting south and give 
him a letter of introduction to his son. In this event 
the road w^ould be clear, and no difficulty need be 
apprehended in making the trip. 

Thus directed, he set forth from Nashville on a scout 
south, with saddle-bags well filled with fine-tooth combs, 
needles, pins, thread, etc., and carrying two fine navy 
revolvers. Going directly to Spence's, he introduced 
himself, said he had called by recommendation of 
Harrison, made known his business, and asked for a 
letter to his son, on General Polk's staff. Spence re- 
ceived him cordially, but would not furnish him with 
the desired letter. He referred him, however, to J. 
Wesley Ratcliffe, living about one mile from Franklin, 
on the Lewisburg pike, as a person likely to render him 
very material assistance. This Ratcliffe was a rebel 
agent for the purchase of stock and commissary stores, 
and was well known throughout the whole country. 
Pushing on, he accordingly called at Ratcliffe's, and 
made his acquaintance. When informed of his plans 
and purposes and shown the goods, Ratcliffe was much 
pleased, and soon became very friendly, advising him to 
go to Shelbyville, where such articles were greatly 
needed and could easily be disposed of. Newcomer 
accordingly started for Shelbyville, and for some time 



80 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

met with no incidents on the way. Between Caney 
Springs and Rover, however, he fell in with a band of 
rebel cavalry belonging to General Buford's command, 
who, on being made acquainted with his business, advised 
him not to go to Shelbj'^ville, as considerable trouble might 
be experienced there. Their bushy shocks of hair sug- 
gesting that they were combless, he offered his stock for 
sale, chatting meanwhile with them about matters and 
things in general and in that vicinity in particular. 
Combs which cost two dollars per dozen he sold for two 
dollars each, and other articles in proportion, and, by 
the time his trading was finished, had ascertained that 
General Buford was st^xtioned at Rover to guard a large 
mill full of flour and meal — the size of his command, 
the number and calibre of his guns, and other items of 
importance, and also what generals and troops were at 
Shelbyvillc. The cavalrymen now wished him to go 
back to Nashville and bring them some pistols on his 
return. This he agreed to do, and, having obtained all 
the information he cared for at this time, turned his 
horse about and once more set his face toward Nashville. 
The two pistols which he had carried with him he had 
not .shown, and still had them in his possession — which 
circumstance was the cause of a slight adventure on the 
wa}' home. He had proceeded but a little way when 
he met with a small squad of cavalry, who halted him, 
as usual, and demanded his name, business, and where 
he was going. These questions satisfactorily answered, 
he was next asked if he had any pistols about him. He 
replied that he had two, and was forthwith ordered by 
a rough-looking Texan to produce them, which was 
hardly done before they were coolly appropriated by his 



NAURATU'ES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 81 

interrogator. Remonstrance was followed by abuse and 
threats of violence ; and it was only by the intervention 
of the other parties that the matter was compromised 
by the sale of the pistols at fifty dollars each, and our 
traveller allowed to go on his way rejoicing. Without 
interruption headquarters were reached, and a report of 
operations duly made. 

Remaining two days at Nashville, he started again, 
with three pistols and the balance of the old stock of 
goods. The first night was spent at Ratcliffe's, and the 
ne::t day both went to Murfreesboro in a buggy. Rat- 
clijffe had business to transact with the provost-marshal, 
and a number of the generals and inferior officers to see, 
and Newcomer was taken rohnd and introduced to all, 
as a co-laborer in the cause of the South. During his 
four days' stay, he was all over the town, through 
several of the camps, in many of the houses, drank 
whiskey with General Frank Cheatham, went to a grand 
party at the court house, and made love to a dozen or 
more young ladies of secession proclivities — aided in all 
this by a perfect self-possession, an easy, graceful man- 
ner, and a winning face. In addition to pleasure seek- 
ing and love making, he also drove a thriving business 
in the sale of pistols and other contraband goods, and, 
with pockets filled with money and head stored with in- 
formation, returned with RatclifFe to his house, and 
thence to Nashville — having first made an arrangement 
with the former to accompany him to Shelbyville the 
next day. Arriving at Nashville after dark, he re- 
mained there until morning, and then made preparations 
and started for a third trip. 

With a pair or two of cotton cards, a lot of pistol caps, 



82 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

and some smaller knick-knacks, as passports to favor, 
he set forth once more to join Ratcliffe ; but having been 
unavoidably delayed in starting, he found him already 
gone. Nothing was now to be done but to boldly push 
ahead in the hope of overtaking him on the road, or 
meeting him at Shelbyville. With the exception of 
Katclifte, not a soul there knew him. Trusting to good 
fortune, he travelled on, and reached Shelbj'ville in 
due season without trouble. The usual questions were 
asked him by guards and pickets, to all of Avhich he re- 
plied that he lived in Davidson county, was going to 
visit some friends in the 44th Tennessee regiment, and 
had, moreover, a small stock of contraband goods for 
sale. These answers proving satisfixctory, he was passed 
through and reached the town early in the forenoon. 
Most of the day he spent in riding about, looking into 
quartermasters' and commissary depots, inquiring the 
names of officers, the number of troops, ccmimanders, 
•jtc, until he had ascertained all that he wished. By 
this time night was drawing near, and it was high time 
to^think about getting out of town ; for should he remain 
after dark, he was certain to be arrested. Ratcliffe was 
nowhere to be seen, and on inquiry he was told that he 
liad gone to Atlanta, Georgia, on the train, and that 
nobody knew when he would be back. Here was a 
desperate state of affiiirs. Get out of town he must, 
and to get out he must have a pass. It was easy enough 
to come in, but very difficult to get out. Nobody knew 
him ; and, in liict, for once in his life, he was at a loss 
what to do. While thus troubled, he met some citizens 
of Davidson county who had been over the river to the 
camps of Cheatham and McCown's divisions, and were 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 83 

now on their way to the provost-marshal to procure 
return passes. Misery loves company, and with a long 
face he told them his trouble — dressing it up with a 
."-onsiderable amount of fiction to suit the occasion. By 
way of adding earnestness to his entreaty and to open a 
sure path to their sympathies, he bought a bottle of 
whiskey and invited them all to drink with him. The 
liquor warmed their hearts as well as stomachs; and 
while hobnobbing together he asked them if they wouldn't 
vouch for him to the provost^marshal, and thus enable 
him to procure a pass. Being now in a condition to love 
the world and everybody in it, they promised to do so, 
and in due season all went for passes. His seven newly- 
made friends found no difficulty in their suit, their names 
being all written on a single pass ; but our scout was 
left unnoticed. The attention of the provost-marshal 
was called to him, when that functionary asked if any 
of them was personally acquainted with him. Though 
rebels, they would not lie ; possibly they thought it was 
not necessary ; and answered, '• No," but they would 
vouch for him. But that would not do. His situation 
now was worse than ever. He not only had no pass, 
but had not the slightest chance of getting one. The 
whiskey investment had proved a losing speculation ; and 
he knew not where to turn for relief. The loungers 
about the office began to eye him suspiciously, and 
even the dogs seemed disposed to growl and snap at him 
as having no business there. The place was getting too 
hot for safety ; and his only hope of escape was to hurry 
out and lose himself in the crowd. 

His new friends were still outside, waiting for him ; 
and with them a long consultation was held as to what 



84 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS/ AND DETECTIVES. 

had better be done about getting away, as every moment 
added to his already serious danger. Finally, one of 
tlie party suggested that he should go with them an}^- 
]iQyr — that the pickets would not be likely to notice that 
Ills name was not in the pass, there being so many 
already on it. In default of any thing better, this pro- 
position was agreed to, and all set out together. New- 
comer, however, was still far from easy about the mat- 
ter, and was fearful that the plan would not work. As 
they were journeying along, he proposed to the one who 
had the pass that he should be allowed to write his own 
name on the pass with a pencil, and if any objection 
should be made to it they might say that he belonged 
to the party but did not come in until the pass was 
made out, and that the provost marshal, to save writing 
a new one, had inserted the name in pencil-mark. This 
was assented to and done. The amended pass carried 
them safely through, and the last cloud of anxiety was 
lifted from his troubled mind. 

Some twelve or fifteen, miles having been passed over 
pleasantly. Newcomer purposely lagged behind and 
allowed the others to get far ahead, wdien he turned oft* 
and struck across to the Lewisburg and Franklin pike. 
Travelling on this about ten miles, he stopped for the 
night, with five of Wheeler's cavalry, at the house of a 
man who had a son in Forrest's command. Starting the 
na'Kt morning betimes, he reached Ratclifi'e's the same 
evening, but found he had not yet reached home. Stop- 
ping a few moments, he passed on through Franklin 
toward Nashville. He had gone some seven miles, and 
was near Brentwood, when he saw four cavalrymen 
riding furiously down a lane just ahead of him. They 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 85 

and our hero reached its entrance at the same moment. 
The leader of the squad — who proved to be Captain 
Harris, a scout of John Morgan's, and who, as well as 
his three men, was very drunk — roughly halted him, 
and riding up, pistol in hand, shouted : 

" Who are you ? and where do you live ?" 

'' My name is Newcomer, and I live six miles from 
Nashville, near Brent Spence's," was the ready, respect- 
ful reply. 

Spence was well known to all, Jind no further trouble 
w^as apprehended ; but the drunken captain was not so 
easily satisfied. He soon asked : 

" Where have you been ? and what in the are 

you doing here ?" 

'' I have been to Shelbyville to see Spence's son, and 
I took along some contraband goods to sell." 

" You can go back to Franklin with me, sir !" 

Protestation was unavailing; and without more ado 
he turned about and all started toward Franklin. On. 
the way Harris asked if he had any arms with him, and 
on being told that he had two fine revolvers and some 
cartridges, ordered him to give them up, wliich was 
done. With a savage leer he then said : 

^'I know all about you. You're a Yankee spy. 

You have been going backward and forward here &x) 
much that the citizens of Franklin have suspected you 
for a long time, and have reported you. I am satisfied 
that you are a Yankee spy ; and I am going to hang 

you, you. Bragg has ordered me never to bring 

in spies, but to shoot or hang them like dogs on the 
spot ; and I am going to make a beginning wdth you, 
now, this very night." 



86 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

" If you do that," was the reply, " you'll take the life 
of a good and true man. I can show by J. W. Ratcliffe 
til at I am a true Southerner, that I have done much 
good for the cause — very likely much more than you 
have — and that I am doing good every day I live." 

'* Captain," said one of the men, " it may b^ that he 
is an important man to our cause; and you had better 
see Ratcliffe and inquire into his case," 

Harris studied a moment, and finally concluded to go 
with the prisoner to Ratcliffe's and confer about the 
matter — at the same time assuring him that it was of 
no use, for he should certainly hang him anyhow. At 
Franklin all stopped to drink, and Harris and his men 
became beastly drunk. Reeling into their saddles, they 
were once more on their way to Ratcliffe's, but had gone 
only a short distance, when Harris wheeled his horse 
and hiccoughed out — 

" Boys, there's no use in fooling. I am satisfied this 

fellow's a Yankee spy ; and here's just as good a 

place as we can find to hang him. Take the halter off 
that horse's neck and bring it here." 

It wns indeed a fitting place in which to do foul mur- 
der. Not a house was to be seen ; and the road wound 
through one of those cedar thickets so dense that even 
in mid-day it was almost dark within them. It was 
now night, and the sombre shade even more gloomy 
than ever, as Harris jumped from his horse, and, taking 
the halter, made a noose of it, and, fitting it around the 
neck of tlie unlucky scout, drew it up uncomfortably 
tight, until, in fact, it was just about strangling him. 

Now or never was the time to expostulate and entreat. 
In a moment it minht be too late ; and then farewell 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 87 

home, friends, and all the joys of life ! It is not hard to die 
in peace, surrounded by weeping friends, or even to meet 
the dread king in the shock and excitement of battle ; 
but to hang like a dog! — the idea is sickening, appalling; 
and it is no sign of cowardice to shrink from it. One 
more effort, then, for life, even if it be to supplicate for 
mercy from a drunken rebel. 

" Captain," said he, with great feeling, " it is wrong 
to take a man's life on so slight a suspicion. It is a vast 
responsibility to take upon one's self; and you may do 
something for which you will be sorry by-and-by, in 
your calmer moments, and for which you may be even 
punished when it comes to the knowledge of General 
Bragg." 

To which came the rough and heartless answer, '' I 
know my business, and I don't want any advice from a 

Yankee spy. When I do, I'll let you know. Come 

along," shouted he, seizing the rope and dragging his 
victim toward a tree. " I know my duty, and am 
going to do it, too. Come on, men, and let's swing up 
this rascally spy." 

They refused to come to his assistance, however, say- 
ing that they were as ready as he to do their duty, but 
they wanted to be a little better satisfied about the mat- 
ter. It was only half a mile to Ratcliffe's, and it would 
be a very easy thing to go and see what he said about 
it. Harris would not listen a moment, and again or- 
dered them to come and help him, which they dared 
not longer refuse. 

The case now appeared hopeless. Death stared him 
in the face, and life, with all its memories and pleasures, 
seemed passing dreamily away. Looking into the cedars 



88 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

hanging heavy Avith darkness, they seemed the entrance 
to the valley of the shadow of death, beyond which lay 
the infinite and mysterious future. On the verge of the 
grave life was yet sweet — yet worth striving for ; and, 
as a last eflbrt, the unfortunate man went up to Harris, 
placed his hand on his shoulder, and asked him if he 
would promise, on the word and honor of a gentleman, 
that he would go to C oneral Bragg and give him a true 
statement of the affi J", narrating every circumstance as 
it actually occurrc'/ Then, turning to the men, he 
asked them if they would do it, provided the captain 
did not. Less hardened than the captain, they feelingly 
answered that they would ; and the earnestness with 
which they replied was proof enough that they would 
make good their words. This set the captain to think- 
ing, lie evidently didn't like the idea of Bragg's hear- 
ing about it, and, after some moments' retlection, con- 
cluded to go to Ratclifte's and see what he would say. 
The rope was removed, and they resumed their journey — 
the captain still swearing it would do no good, as noth- 
ing could save him, for he was bound to hang him that 
very night. 

Life still hung on a thread, however. In the after- 
noon, when Newcomer had been there, Ratcliife had not 
returned, and if he were not now at home, nothing 
would prevent Harris from carrying out his threat, 
which he seemed determined to execute. That half 
mile Avas the longest ride Newcomer ever took. No 
lights were to be seen ; but it was near midnight, and 
it might be that all were abed. Harris left the prisoner 
at the gate, in charge of the other three, and went up to 
the house. He knocked on the window, and Newcomer 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 89 

thought it was the thumping of his own heart. Fortun- 
ately Ratcliffe was at home, and came hurriedly to the 
door, without stopping to dress. The two conversed in 
a low tone for some time, when Ratcliffe was heard to 

exclaim, " I'll be if you do !" and instantly started 

down toward the gate. Coming up to the prisoner, 
and throwing one arm around hi*: neck, while he took 
his hand in his, he said to him — 

" Great God ! Harry, how fortunate that I am at 
home !" 

After they had talked awhile together, Harris came 
up again, and called Ratcliffe to one side, where they 
had another protracted conversation, in a low, whisper- 
ing tone. While they were thus engaged, a large owl 
on a tree near by began hooting, and was speedily an- 
swered by another some distance up the rojid. The 
three men mounted their horses at once and galloped to 
the road, shouting at the top of their voices — 

" Captain, we're surrounded ! This is a trap. Don't 
you hear the signals ?" 

The captain stepped to the road, listened a moment, 
and then, with a volley of oaths, ordered them back for 

a "pack of fools, to be scared at an owl." Still 

quaking with fear, which did not entirely leave them 
until they were fairly away from the place, they resumed 
their places, the owls hooting lustily all the while. 

Harris and Ratcliffe continued their conversation for 
a few minutes, when the former came towards Newcomer 
with a pistol and some papers in each hand, saying, as 
he gave them to him : 

" I release you and restore your property on the word 
of Quartermaster Ratcliffe. He assures me that you are 



90 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

one of the most important men in the south, and a secret 
agent of the Confederacy. I am very sorry that this 
thing has occurred, and will make any amends in my 
power. If you desire, I will go wdth you to the Char- 
lotte pike as an escort, or will do you any favor you may 
ask." 

" No," said Eatcliffe ; " he must come in and stay all 
night with me. I can't let him go on to-night." 

While standing at the gate, during this conversation, 
our released prisoner sold his pistols to the cavalrymen 
for Tennessee money. Just at this moment, too, a 
squad of cavalry belonging to Starns's command came 
by. One of them — to whom Newcomer had sold a 
pistol some weeks before — recognized him at once, and 
shook hands with him very cordially. He corroborated 
Eatclifle's statement, saviuii* that Newcomer was on verv 
important business for the South, which was rendered 
still more so b}^ the fight having begun at Stewart's 
creek. A short time was passed in general conversa- 
tion, Avhen all left except Newcomer, who hitched his 
hoi'se to the porch and went in Avith Eatcliffe. When 
sufficient time had elapsed for them to be well out of the 
way, Newcomer said his business was of too much im- 
portance to brook delay, and he must be ofl:' at once. 
Eatclifle said if he must go he could not urge him to 
stay. " I will go with you to your horse," said he ; 
"meanwhile take this to keep you from further trouble. 
If anybody stops you again, just show them this, and 
you will be passed at once." 

So saying, he took from his pocket a large govern- 
ment envelope — of which he had an abundance — and 
wrote on it : 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 91 

"All Right. 

"•J. W. Ratcliffe." 

Armed with this, he started again, and reached the 
pickets of the Fifth Kentucky Cavahy, who brought 
him into the city. It was nearly three o'clock in the 
morning when he arrived at the police office ; but the 
colonel was still up, and immediately telegraphed his 
report to headquarters. 

The next day, nothing daunted, he set out again, and 
\vcnt, as usual, first to Ratcliffe's, where he remained 
all night — thence the next morning travelled, by way 
of Hart's crossroads and Caney Springs, to Marfrees- 
boro, reaching that place on the Saturday evening 
closing the week of battles at Stone river. Riding 
about the town, he observed that nearly every house in 
it was a hospital. Every thing was confusion and excite- 
ment. Immense crowds of straggling soldiers and citi- 
zens were gathered about the court house and depot. 
Commissary and quartermaster stores, artillery, ammu- 
nition, and camp equipage, were being loaded on the 
cars, and trains were starting as fiist as loaded. An 
evacuation was evidently on hand, and that right speed- 
ily ; and he determined to leave as soon as possible. 
The only trouble was how to get out. After wandering 
around some time, seeking an opportunity, he came 
across a train of small wagons, with which the neighbor- 
ing fiirmers had come to take home their wounded sons 
and brothers. Quick to embrace opportunities, he saw 
that now was his chance to escape. Dismounting from 
his horse, he led him by the bridle, and walked demurely 
behind one of these wagons, as though it was in his 



92 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

charge. Clad in butternut, and in every outward appear- 
ance resembling the others accompanying it, the deceit 
was not discovered, and he safely passed all the pickets. 
It was now nearly two o'clock in the morning, and he 
rode rapidly on, in a cold, driving rain, until f\iirly be- 
numbed. Some nine miles out, he came to a deserted 
school-house, which he unceremoniously entered, leading 
his horse in after him. Within, a large fireplace and 
an abundance of desks suggested the idea of a fire, and 
a huge blaze roaring and crackling on the hearth soon 
demonstrated its practicability^ The next step vras to 
wrin"' the water out of his well-soaked "arments, and 
partially dry them. Both horse and man enjoyed them- 
selves here until near daybreak, when he mounted again 
and rode on to Ratcliffe's, reaching there about three 
o'clock Sunday afternoon. Here he remained awhile 
to converse with his friend, refresh the inner man, and 
care for his horse — neither having eaten a mouthful 
since the morning before, Ratcliffe was rejoiced to see 
him, and wished him to remain longer; but he pushed 
ahead, and reached Nashville late that evening, well 
nigh worn-out with hunger, fatigue, and want of sleep. 
His report was immediately telegraphed to General 
Rosecrans ; but he had been so long in peaking his way 
back that the general did not receive it until he had 
himself entered Murfreesboro. 

Late the next night he started again, with a single 
pistol, and a small stock of needles, pins, and thread. 
On Monday evening he reached Ratcliffe's, and, staying 
but two hours, rode on two miles farther, to the house 
of one M. H. Perryear, with whom he remained all 
night. Thence he travelled, by way of Hart's cross- 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 93 

roads, toward Caney Springs, but before reaching the 
latter place fell in with some of Wheeler's cavalry, with 
whom he rode along, friendly and companion ably enough. 
Some of them were old acquaintances, and very confi- 
dential. They were, they said, just on their way to 
burn a lot of Federal wagons at Lavergne and Triune, 
and, deeming him a good fellow well met, invited him 
to go with them. Thinking that there might be some 
chance to save the wagons, he declined the invitation, 
urging the pressing nature and importance of his mis- 
sion as an excuse. It was soon found, however, that 
every avenue of escape northward was guarded, and 
the whole country filled with the cavalry, of whom 
there were, in all, about three thousand. There was 
nothing to do, then, but to leave the wagons to their 
fate and push on, which he did, and, arriving at Caney 
Springs, remained there over night. The next morn- 
ing the cavalry began to loiter back from their maraud- 
ing expedition, in squads of from fifteen to a hundred 
or more, and from them he learned the complete suc- 
cess of the enterprise. Making the acquaintance of a 
lieutenant, he was told that they were going at once to 
Harpeth Shoals, to burn a fleet of boats which w^as 
then on its way to Nashville. This determined him 
to abandon the idea of going to Shelbyville, and he ac- 
companied a detachment back as far as Hart's cross- 
roads, where they went on picket-duty at a meeting- 
house by the road. Bidding them good-day, he started 
on alone toward Ratcliflfe's. Stopping at Perryear's, he 
was told that Forrest was in Franklin, that the roads 
were all guarded, and that there was a picket just at 
Ratcliffe's gate. Perryear then gave liim an open let- 



94 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

ter of introduction, recommending him to all officers 
and soldiers of the Confederate army as a true and loyal 
Southern man, engaged in business of the highest im- 
porUmce to the Government. With this he again set out, 
and, as he had been told, found a picket at Ratcliffe's 
gate. Requesting to be admitted, he was asked if he 
was a soldier, and, on answering negatively, was passed 
in without hesitation. Ratcliffe corroborated Perry ear's 
statement, saying, furthermore, that Forrest was very 
strict, and that it would be much better for him to re- 
main there until they had all gone down the river. 

" But," added he, '' if you must go, I'll go with yon 
as for as Franklin and help you through." 

The town was found to be full of cavalry, who were 
conscripting every man whom they could lay hands on. 
Ratclifte introduced his companion to Will Forrest — a 
brother of the general, and captain of his body-guard. 
The captain was profuse of oaths and compliments, and, 
withal, so very friendly that Newcomer at once told 
him his story and business, all of which was indorsed 
by Ratcliffe. More oaths and compliments followed. 
The captain was glad to know so important a man, and, 
by way of busmess, asked him if he had any pistols to 
sell. 

" No," was the reply ; " I have nothing but a single 
navy revolver, which I carry for my own defence, and 
which I wouldn't like to part with. But I am just going 
to Nashville for more goods, and, fearing trouble in 
getting away, I thought I would come and see about it." 

"Oh, I guess there will be none," said the captain. 
" The general wants to know something about Nashville, 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 95 

and will be very apt to send you there to get the infor- 
mation for him. Come ; let's go and see about it." 

The two set forth, and found the general, surrounded 
by the usual crowd, at his hotel. Calling him to one 
side, the captain pointed out his new friend, and, 
explaining who and what he was, concluded by remark- 
ing that he wished to go to Nashville for goods, and 
would bring liim any information he desired. The 
general, not just then in the best of humor, swore very 
roundly that he knew as much about Nashville as he 
wanted to — it was men he wanted — and concluded by 
ordering the captain to conscript his friend into either 
his own or some other company. Turning on his heel, 
he walked briskly away, leaving his brother to his 
anger and our would-be rebel spy to his disappointment. 
The captain fumed with great, sulphurous oaths, and 
consoled Newcomer thus wise : 

" He's a fool, if he is my brother. You are the 

last man I'll ever bring to him to be insulted. But you 
sha'n't be conscripted. Come with me, and I'll help you 
through. You can go with my company, but not as a 
soldier, and I will send you to Nashville myself. My 
company always has the advance, and there'll be plenty 
of chances." 

Making a virtue of necessity, this proposition was 
gladly accepted, and all started on the march. By this 
time Wheeler had come up and taken the lead, Forrest 
following in the centre, and Starns bringing up the rear. 
About eight miles from Franklin the whole command 
encamped for the night, and our hero slept under the 
same blanket with Captain Forrest and his lieutenant, 
— a Texan ranger named Scott, whose chief amusement 



9G NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

seemed to consist in lassoing dogs while on the march, 
and listening to their yelping as they were pitilessly 
dragged along behind him. Toward midnight, one of 
their spies — a Northern man, named Sharp, and 
formerly in the plough business at Nashville — came in 
from the Cumberland river. Captain Forrest introduced 
Newcomer to him as a man after his own heart — " true 
as steel, and as sharp as they make 'em." The two spies 
became intimate at once, and Sharp belied his name by 
making a confidant of his new acquaintance. He had 
formerly been in Memphis, and acted as a spy for the 
cotton-burners. More recently he had been employed 
with Forrest; and now he had just come from Harpeth 
Shoals, where he had learned all about the fleet coming 
up the river, and to-morrow he was to guide the expedi- 
tion down to a place where they could easily be captured 
and burned. Early next morning the march was re- 
sumed, and at the crossing of the Hardin pike General 
Forrest and staff were found waiting for them. Upon 
coming up, the captain was ordered to take his company 
down the Hardin pike, go on picket there, and remain 
until eleven o'clock ; when, if nothing Avas to be seen, 
he was to rejoin the expedition. These instructions 
were prompt!}- carried out — a good position being taken 
on a hill some eight miles from Nashville, from which 
could be had a view of the w^hole country for many 
miles in every direction. About ten o'clock the captain 
came to Newcomer and said he was going to send him 
to Nashville himself; at the same time giving him a 
list of such articles as he wished, consisting principally 
of gray cloth, staff-buttons, etc. 

As may be imagined, no time was lost in starting, and 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 97 

still less in getting into Nashville, where he arrived in 
due season to save the fleet. A force was at once sent 
out on the Hillsboro pike to cut off the retreat of the 
rebels, and another on the Charlotte pike to attack them 
directly. The latter force succeeded in striking their 
rear-guard, and threw them into confusion, when they 
hastily fled across the Harpeth river, which was at the 
time very high. Our forces, being principally infantry, 
could not cross in pursuit, but the troops on the Hills- 
boro pike succeeded in killing, wounding, and capturing 
considerable numbers of them. They were thoroughly 
scattered, however, and the fleet was saved — which was 
the main object of the expedition. 

General Rosecrans had now been in Murfreesboro 
several days, and Colonel Truesdail immediately on his 
arrival sent the scout to that place. Here he made a 
full report, and, having received instructions i^-r another 
trip, returned to Nashville the next day to make ready 
for it. The only item of interest on this trip was that 
at Eagleville he met Wheeler's command, by many of 
whom, and by the general himself, he was well and 
favorably known. Here Wheeler employed him as a 
secret agent, and gave him a permanent pass, which he 
still retains. Borrowing from one of his officers one 
hundred dollars in Tennessee money, the general gave 
it to him, and instructed him to buy with it certain arti- 
cles which he mentioned — among which were gray cloth 
and staff buttons, always in demand for uniforms. 
Stopping at Ratcliffe's on his return, he showed him the 
pass, and related the circumstances of getting it, at 
which the former was highly gratified — " as," said he, 
" you'll have no more trouble now, Harry." 
7 



98 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

At Nashville, he succeeded, of course with the permis- 
sion of the Union authorities, in filling General Wheeler's 
order, and charged with such information as General 
Mitchell and Colonel Truesdail saw fit to impart, he took 
another trip to the rebel lines. Wheeler was at this 
time at Franklin, quartered in the court house. The 
goods and information were delivered, much to the grat- 
ification of the rebel general, who forthwith instructed 
him to return to Nashville for more information and 
late Northern papers. He was by this time so well 
known, and so highly esteemed by the rebels, that the 
cashier of the Franklin branch of the Planter's bank of 
Tennessee, entrusted to him the accounts and valuable 
papers of the branch bank to carry to the parent insti- 
tution at Nashville. This duty he performed faithfully. 
On his way, he stopped at the house of one Prior Smith, 
a violent rebel, and extensive negro dealer. He was 
cordially received by Smith, who tried to interest him in 
the business of running off negro children from Nash- 
ville, to be sold south. Newcomer declined entering 
upon it ; but Smith insisted, and gave him a letter of 
introduction to his " right bower," in Nashville, who 
proved to be a Dr. Hudson, a man of wealth, who pro- 
fessed to be a Union man, but had long been considered 
suspicious. The Chief of Police, Colonel Truesdail, de- 
sired him now to spend some time in Nashville in devel- 
oping the case of Dr. Hudson, but he deemed it necessary 
first, to return to Wheeler, and received permission to 
do so. At Franklin, he found that Wheeler had gone on 
to Shelbyville, and stopping with his friend Ratcliffe, the 
two wrote out the information he had received, and sealed 
it up with the papers in large (rebel) government envel- 




T'J,^ '^'"'''^^^^^^^^^^y 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 99 

opes, and forwarded by carrier to Wheeler. Having spent 
the night with RatclifFe, he returned the next morning, 
and immediately entered upon the w^ork of following up 
the Hudson case. Delivering Prior Smith's letter of intro- 
duction, he very soon gained the full confidence of Dr. Hud- 
son and his wife, and found them ready to do any thing 
to further and aid the rebel cause. Dr. Hudson was very 
wealthy, and possessed an elegant residence in Nashville, 
with every comfort and convenience to be desired, exten- 
sive iron-works near Harpeth Shoals, and a tract of three 
thousand acres, attached together, with a large amount 
of other property. He had taken the oath of allegiance, 
and furnished milk to several of the hospitals as a cover 
for his plans for furnishing arms, ammunition, medicines, 
equipments, etc., to the rebel armies ; aided rebel pris- 
oners to escape, kidnapped negroes, and sold them south ; 
aided and stimulated the burning of Union warehouses, 
transports, etc., etc. In all these iniquitous transactions his 
wife assisted to the best of her ability, and the two were 
in communication with all the principal rebels in Louis- 
ville and south of the Union lines. In all these opera- 
tions, Newcomer soon succeeded in making him commit 
himself before other detectives, whom he had introduced 
as officers of Ashby's cavalry, paroled rebel prisoners, 
Wheeler's spies, etc., etc., and when the proof was com- 
plete, caused the arrest of Dr. and Mrs. Hudson, and 
several of their accomplices. On examination, there 
were found at his house large quantities of contraband 
goods, including numerous pistols (revolvers), muskets, 
rifles, bullets, and shot, domestic and woollen goods, 
morphine and quinine, of the latter, ninety-nine ounces. 
After imprisonment and trial, the Dr. and his wife w^ere 



100 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

sent south beyond the lines, and their property confis- 
cated. 

Newcomer was subsequently employed in ferreting 
out other cases of a similar character, of which there 
were great numbers in Louisville and Nashville. In one 
of these he detected one Trainer, a wagon master in the 
Union army, and his wife, who were engaged in render- 
ing all possible aid and comfort to the rebels, by smug- 
gling supplies, and placing the trains of the Union army 
in dangerous positions, and caused their arrest, as well 
as that of several of their accomplices. From these 
adroit smugglers was taken about five thousand five 
hundred dollars' worth of quinine, morphine, and opium, 
and in consequence of the discoveries made, two drug 
stores, a wholesale and a retail store, were seized with 
their contents, to the value of about seventy-five thou- 
sand dollars more. 

Through his efforts, and tliose of other detectives in 
the employ of the army police, the extensive smuggling 
which had been carried on by rebel emissaries in Nash- 
ville and Louisville was rendered so dangerous that most 
of it was abandoned. 



PAULINE CUSHMAN, 

THE CELEBRATED UNION SPY AND SCOUT OF THE ARMY OP THE 

CUMBERLAND. 

Among the wild and dashing exploits which have sig- 
nalized the recent war — rivalling in heroic and dramatic 
interest the most famous achievements of the earlier days 
of chivalry — few are more striking or picturesque than 
the simple narrative of facts which we are about to relate. 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 101 

Miss Pauline Cushman, or '^ Major" Cushman, as she 
is, by right, most generally called, was born in the city 
of New (X'leans, on the 10th day of June, 1833, her 
father being a Spaniard, a native of Madrid, and a pros- 
perous merchant of the Crescent city, and her mother a 
French woman of excellent social position and attain- 
ments. In course of time, her father met with losses 
which followed one another in rapid succession, and 
unable to stay the tide of adversity, after a brave but 
unavailing struggle, he abandoned his enterprises in 
New Orleans, and removed with his family to Grand 
Rapids, Michigan. This town was at that time little more 
than a frontier settlement, and opening an establishment 
for the purposes of trade with the neighboring Indians, 
lie soon found himself in active and successful business. 
Pauline, meanwhile, the only girl in a family of six 
brothers, had arrived at the age of ten years, and was 
growing in beauty and intelligence. The circumstances 
which surrounded her domestic life, however, somewhat 
clouded the joy of the young girl's earlier years. Her 
father's rigid nature and strong passions ill matched 
with her mother's gentle and retiring temperament, and 
she was therefore sometimes compelled to witness scenes 
of domestic discord, which made home far less desirable 
than it should have been. Fortunately, however, her 
natural inclinations led her mostly to indulge in out-door 
sports, and she was thus enabled to disperse in the sun- 
shine of forgetfulness the oppressive gloom which too 
frequently clouded their little home circle. And, more 
than that, amid the plains, the varied scenes of frontier 
life, and the wild companions that surrounded her in 
her new western home, she insensibly laid the fouuda- 



102 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

tion of that physical strength and beauty, and that 
courageous spirit, wliich has since distinguished her 
every action. In her father's store, little Pauline 
became acquainted with the most noted " braves" of the 
neighboring Indian tribes, and by her kindly attentions 
to their wants, and her many innocent, childish ways, 
completely gained their confidence and good-will, as was 
manifested by the poetic appellation, "Laughing Breeze," 
which they bestowed upon her. As time passed, she 
grew up as straight as an arrow, and beautiful as a 
prairie rose. None could use the rifle more dexterously 
than she ; none could excel her — whether coursing the 
broad plains, mounted on the back of a half-tamed steed, 
without saddle or bridle, or stemming the fierce moun- 
tain currents in her light canoe — while few among the 
dusky natives of the region could wing an arrow with 
greater certainty than this pale-faced maiden. But 
gradually civilization in his westward march reached 
and revolutionized the frontier town where she dwelt. 
And with the novelties and luxuries, the inventions and 
improvements, which came from the far eastern cities — 
from New York, Philadelphia, etc. — came also wonder- 
ful reports of the fascinations and delights of life to be 
found there. Exaggerated by distance, and by her own 
bright imagination, which pictured all things couleur de 
rose, these glowing descriptions awakened in Pauline's 
breast the most intense desire to see and participate in 
their realities. And, ere long, we find her in New York, 
waiting for an opportunity to take her first step in the 
real life of which, on the fiir off prairies, she had so often 
dreamed. The opportunity was nearer than she thought, 
for soon she fell in with Mr. Thomas Placide, manager 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 103 

of the New Orleans '' Varieties," who, struck by her 
handsome face and figure, at once proposed that she 
should enter into an engagement with him, and appear 
at his theatre. She accepted the proposition, and, in 
due time, made her dehut upon the boards of the " Varie- 
ties," inspiring in the hearts of the impressible people of 
New Orleans an admiration which partook of the nature 
oiix. furor. Gifted with rare natural gifts of mind and 
body, she soon became widely known as one of the first 
of American actresses. It was not, however, until the 
spring of March, 1863, that Miss Cushman exchanged 
the role of the actress for the real acting of a noble and 
patriot woman, risking her life in solemn and terrible 
earnestness for her country's good. 

She was, at that time, playing at Mozart Hall, or 
*' Wood's Theatre," in Louisville, Ky., then the head- 
quarters of the rebel sympathizers of the southwest; 
and, although under Union rule, these gentry had be- 
come so emboldened, from long continued success, as to 
almost set the Federal authorities at defiance. At the 
house where Miss Cushman boarded, she was unavoidar 
bly thrown into the company of many of these disloyal 
persons ; and among her acquaintances she numbered 
two paroled rebel officers. Colonel Spear, and Captain 
J. H. Blincoe, whom, apart from all political considera- 
tions, she had admitted to a certain degree of friendship. 
She was at that time acting the part of Plutella, in the 
" Seven Sisters," and every one who has seen this widely 
popular play, will remember that Plutella has to assume, 
during the course of the piece, many characters — at one 
time a dashing Zouave officer, at another, a fine gentle- 
man of fashion, and in this last character is supposed to 



104 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

drink wine with a friend. One afternoon, while receiv- 
ing a call from these two rebel officers, and talking over 
the play, they suddenly proposed to her to "drink a 
Southern toast in the evening, and see what effect it 
will have upon the audience." In surprise, she ex- 
claimed, "' But I should be locked up in jail, if I were to 
attempt any thing of that kind." They, however, scouted 
the idea, and finally offered her three hundred dollars in 
greenbacks, if she would do it. Stifling her indignation 
at the base proposal, she pretended to assent, and asked 
merely for a little time to think it over. The gentle- 
men left to prepare matters for the expected surprise ; 
but no sooner were they fairly out of sight, than with 
cheeks burning and eyes flashing, the actress pro- 
ceeded to the office of Colonel Moore, the United States 
Provost-Marshal, with whom she had a slight acquaint- 
ance, and to whom she related the whole affair. He 
quietly and kindly heard her story, and then, thanking 
her for her confidence, coolly advised her to cany out 
the programme of her rebel advisers, and drink the 
toast, as proposed, at the theatre that evening. Her 
amazement at this may be better imagined than de- 
scribed ; but the colonel finally overcame her scruples, 
giving her to understand that she could render her coun- 
try a true service by following his advice, and promising 
that he would himself be present at the theatre. "Fear 
not," he said; "it is for a deeper reason than you think, 
that I beg you to do this thing. Good may come of it, 
to your country, that you know not of." To the view 
of her duty, as thus presented, she patriotically yielded 
lier assent, and returned to her lodgings to prepare for 
the new role which she was to act, and to get ready for 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 105 

the momentous event of the evening. It was enough 
for her to know that good to her country was to flow 
from her apparently treasonable act, and that some de- 
sign, of which she was yet unconscious, was concealed 
beneath it. The afternoon was well improved by her 
rebel friends in publishing abroad in the " secesh" circles 
of the city, that something rich was to come off that 
evening at the theatre. It seemed to our heroine that 
the afternoon would never wear away ; and yet, as the 
hour approached, her heart beat fast at the thought that 
the momentous mom,ent was hastening on. At last the 
hour arrived for her to set out to the theatre. No sooner 
had she stepped within the building, than she saw that 
it was literally packed. Not even standing room was 
to be had for love or money. Every rebel sympathizer 
in town had heard of it, and all were there. The time 
approached for the play to begin. The musicians in the 
orchestra tuned their big fiddles in their usual myste- 
rious manner. Ushers began to call out the numbers of 
seats, and to slam the doors in their wonted style. The 
" call-boy" flew here and there, and at la,st, in obedience 
to the prompter's bell, the curtain began to rise, discov- 
ering Mr. Pluto at breakfast, within the shades of Hades. 
There was, however, a veritable Pluto to burst upon 
them, that they wot not of This was coming. In the 
meantime, the jokes and mirth of the " Seven Sisters" 
were more than ordinarily relished. It may have been 
that those in the secret were so delighted at the pros- 
pect of seeing the Federal authorities thus wantonly in- 
sulted, that they greeted every thing with rapture, and 
that this became contagious among the good Union 
people of the house, who, of course, were ignorant of the 



106 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

joke. At length the critical moment arrived, and ad- 
vancing in her theatrical costume to the foot lights, our 
heroine, goblet in hand, gave, in a clear, ringing voice, 
the following toast : 

" here's to JEFF. DAVIS AND THE SOUTHERN CONFEDERACY. MAY 
THE SOUTH ALWAYS MAINTAIN HER HONOR AND HER RIGHTS !" 

Miss Cushman had prepared herself for a fearful out- 
break of popular opinion, but for a moment even the 
hearts of the audience seemed to stop beating. Then, 
however, it burst forth, and such a scene followed as 
beggars description. The good Union portion of the 
audience had set, at first, spell-bound and horrified by the 
fearful treason thus outspoken, while the "secesh" 
were frozen with the audacity of the act, though con- 
scious that it was to occur. But then came the mingled 
storm of applause and condemnation. Fierce and tu- 
multuous it raged, until it seemed as though it would 
never stop. Nor was the scene behind the scenes less 
intense. The manager, rushing up to our heroine, de- 
manded, in his most tragic tone, " what she meant by 
such conduct ;" while the rest of the professional gentle- 
men and ladies avoided her as though she had suddenly 
been stricken with some fearfully contagious disease. 
The brave girl, however, had her cue, and boldly avowed 
that she '' wasn't afraid of the whole Yankee crew, and 
would do it again." In short, she carried out her part 
so well, that no one doubted for a moment that she was 
a most virulent secessionist. Before she had left the 
theatre, the guards arrived to arrest her ; but — out of 
respect to Mr. Wood, the proprietor of the theatre — 
they were deterred from actually executing their errand, 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 107 

and it was arranged that she should report at head- 
quarters at ten o'clock the next morning. There she 
was welcomed in the private office in the kindest man- 
ner, and earnestly thanked by Colonel Moore, and his 
superior, General Boyle, for the capital manner in which 
she had carried out the pseicdo-tre'dson^hle plan. She was 
now enlightened as to the design of the United States 
officers, who informed her that she must enter the 
secret service of the government. They also advised her 
to moderate her "secesh" proclivities in jowft/ic, as if she 
had received a severe reprimand from General Boyle ; 
but, in private, to abuse the government, and say all the 
harm she could about it ; by which means she would in- 
spire confidence among the disaffected, and would be of 
incalculable use to the national cause. Promising a 
ready and strict compliance with these requests, she re- 
turned to'her lodgings, where she found a note awaiting 
her from the management of the theatre, discharging 
her from her engagement there. 

Thrown afresh, as it were, upon the world. Miss Gush- 
man now found herself in a most peculiar and embarrass- 
ing position. Shunned by her former friends as bearing 
the brand of disloyalty — slighted — jeered at — flung by 
the force of her own act upon the sympathies and com- 
panionship of a cowardly crew of rebel sympathizers, 
from whose treason her very nature revolted, her situa- 
tion was one of peculiar hardship and disagreeableness. 
She was sustained, however, by the thought that she 
was sacrificing her own prospects and feelings for her 
country's good. The work before her was full of dan- 
ger, excitement, and importance. Louisville, at this 
time, was undermined by disloyal sentiments and trea- 



108 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

sonable plots. Every expedient that human and 
disloyal ingenuity could devise to annoy and harass the 
loyal Union people of that section, or to cripple the 
power and operations of the government, was resorted 
to with malignant delight — even by Avealthy and well 
known citizens of Louisville. Many of these plots Miss 
Cushman was the means of bringing to light and to 
punishment ; and, in so doing, had to assume various 
disguises, mingling with every class of people, from the 
cut-throats of the low groggeries to the best circles of 
"secesh" society. Her most dangerous service, how- 
ever, was scouting in search of guerillas, to accomplish 
which, she was frequently compelled to don male attire 
and to remain in the saddle all night ; and many and 
varied were the strange adventures which she met with. 
But her coolness, her energy, and patriotism carried her 
successfully through these experiences, and God's special 
providence seemed always to be with her. The most 
important service, however, which she rendered her 
country while in Louisville, was the detection of her 
landlady in the act of mixing up poison in the coffee of 
a number of sick and wounded Union soldiers, who had 
been quartered upon her. She managed to play the 
" sympathizer" until she had gained a full knowledge 
of the plan, and then secretly informed the United 
States authorities, by whom the poor soldiers were re- 
moved in time from the fate which awaited, them, and 
the fiend-woman was treated to her deserved punish- 
ment. 

At another time, personating the somewhat notorious 
George N. Sanders, purporting to have just returned 
from Europe with highly important despatches, con- 



N-ARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 109 

corning the recognition of the Confederacy, etc., and also 
a certain Captain Denver, alias Conklin, Miss Cushman 
most successfully ''gammoned" some of the leading seces- 
sionists of Louisville, especially a Mrs. Ford, and placed 
a very effectual embargo on a large amount of quinine, 
morphine, and other medicines, which were in transit to 
the rebel army. 

In course of time, Mr. J. R. Allen, of the new thea- 
tre of Nashville, Tenn., arrived at Louisville, engaged 
in looking up a good company of actors, and meeting 
with Mr. Wood of the Louisville theatre, was recom- 
mended to secure Miss Cushman. " She is a good look- 
ing woman, and an accomplished actress, but she will 
talk ' secesh.' If you can only keep her out of the 
provost-marshal's hands, you will make a good thing, 
for she will be popular at once," said Mr, Wood. So 
the proposition was made to Pauline, and, after advising 
with the military authorities, under whose guidance she 
was acting, she determined to accept it. Of course, in 
order to maintain her assumed part, the authorities had 
to refuse her a "pass," and her only way, therefore, 
to get out of Louisville, was to '' run the blockade." 
Proceeding, at the appointed time, to the cars, she got a 
" secesh" gentleman, going to Nashville, to attend to her 
trunk; then she requested leave of the guard, at the door 
of the car, to speak to a friend inside, ''only for one 
minute." Her woman's face prevailed, he let her pass, 
and she took pains to stay within the car. When the 
officer of the guard came around to inspect the passes, 
she had a " made up story" all ready, at the same time 
showing her order from Mr. Allen to report herself im- 
mediately at his theatre. He hesitated, but her pleasing 



110 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

face and a few womanly tears carried the point, and our 
heroine was soon on her way to Nashville, at that time 
the base of operations of the glorious Army of the 
Southwest. 

On her arrival at Nashville, she met with a warm recep- 
tion from ''Secessia," who were brimful of congratulations 
at her escape from the Federal power at Louisville, and 
of exultation at her having got away from that place with- 
out even securing a "pass" or taking the oath of allegiance. 
In her character of actress she soon became exceedingly 
popular, but her stay at the theatre was a short one ; 
for, on her return from rehearsal one day, she found a 
summons from Colonel Truesdail, the chief of the army 
police of Nashville. On entering his office, she was re- 
ceived by him politely but distantly, as due to a stranger ; 
but, no sooner had he dismissed his clerks, than his 
whole manner changed to one of cordiality. After com- 
plimenting her for her previous important services to the 
country, he informed her that he had selected her for a 
duty that would not only require the greatest discretion, 
constancy, and quickness of perception which she could 
command, but which was one of extraordinary peril — 
an undertaking which might end in glory, or in an igno- 
minious death by the bullet, or Inj the rope! At these 
words she involuntarily shrank back, but yet she an- 
swered in a firm tone : 

"Colonel Truesdail, hundreds, aye, thousands of our 
noble soldiers, each one of greater service to our country 
than my poor self, have gladly given up their lives in 
her cause. Should I hesitate to do as much ? No ; I 
will do all that a woman should do, and all that a man 
dare do, for my country and the Union !" 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. Ill 

Charmed with the noble heroism which breathed in 
these words, the colonel proceeded to reveal the service 
for which she was to be detailed, and to give her the 
necessary instructions. The duty which was required 
of her, was to secretly visit the rebel General Bragg's 
headquarters, an enterprise at that time of the greatest im- 
portance, and one upon which the whole fate of the Union 
cause seemed to depend. First, she was to be sent out 
of the lines, in company with many other rebel women 
who were being sent South, in obedience to a late order 
of General Mitchell. To this very natural reason, she 
added another, i. e., that she had a brother, A. A. Cush- 
man, who was a colonel somewhere in the rebel army, 
and a professed anxiety to find him afforded a very 
clever ostensible reason for her travelling from headquar- 
ters to headquarters, and from place to place through 
the South. She was then instructed to make no con- 
fidants; not to talk too much; to make the same 
answers to all parties, and never to deviate from the 
story, when once framed. The search for her brother 
was to be the free and confessed object of her travels, 
and under this pretence she w^as to visit the rebel 
armies at Columbia, Shelby ville, Wartrace, Tullahoma, 
and Manchester. She was to make no direct in- 
quiries of officers or others concerning the strength of 
the Confederate forces, movements, supplies, etc., but, 
in accepting the offers to ride and other attentions 
which her personal attractions would probably secure 
her from officers, she was to keep her eyes open, and 
note every thing of importance which she might see. In 
the hospitals, she was to make such observations as she 
could, concerning the medical and hospital supplies, the 



112 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

number of sick and wounded soldiers, etc. But she was 
especially advised not, on any account, to make any 
memorandum or tracings of any kind ; only keeping a 
brief memoranda of the houses at which she stopped, 
amount of bill, and date, which being so customary as 
not to excite suspicion, would yet serve to refresh the 
memory on certam points. The Oath of Fidelity to the 
United States was then solemnly administered to Miss 
Cushman ; the gallant colonel presented to her a hand- 
some " six-shooter," and on a glorious May morning, 
under the pretended surveillance of an officer, she was 
conveyed beyond the lines as a disloyal woman. 
Arrived at a point some three miles distant from Nash- 
ville, out of sight of any human habitation, the carriage 
stopped, and Miss Cushman found awaiting her a fine 
bay horse, fully caparisoned, which she mounted, and 
bidding flirewell to her military escort, she galloped 
gayly down the Hardin pike, followed by the good 
wishes of the few who knew her real character and 
purpose. 

The close of her first day's journey brought her to the 
Big Harpeth river, the bridge across which had been so 
injured by the rebels that it was impossible for any one 
to cross it, and in following a side path which seemed to 
lead to a ford, Miss Cushman came upon a nice looking 
dwelling house, where she stopped to inquire about the 
road. From the inmates she found that it would be im- 
possible to cross at present, at least without help ; and 
accordingly, the sympathies of the woman of the house 
having been fully enlisted by the story of the cruel treat- 
ment received by Miss Cushman from the Federal 
authorities of Nashville, she was allowed to spend the 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 113 

night there. In the morning, her host, Milam by name, 
who carried on a considerable business in smuggling 
goods and supplies out of Nashville for the benefit of his 
rebel fri».nds across the river, purchased her horse and 
equipments, giving her confederate funds therefore and 
hired her a buggy and driver under whose care she set 
forth in the direction of Columbia. Through dreary 
woods and terrible roads and a drenching rain they 
pursued their way, finally arriving at her destination, 
where she was, fortunately for her strength, compelled to 
wait, for three days, the re-opening of the railroad to 
Shelbyville, which had been destroyed by the Union 
troops. While here, she met with much sympathy from 
the rebels, to whom she appeared in the character of an 
abused woman, seeking for her brother, an offi.^er in 
the army ; and she also had to pass the scrutiny of more 
experienced judges — officers, and others high in oficial 
rank. But she bore the test, and in turn made the most 
suspicious her most useful tools. Columbia proved a 
rich field to our heroine, who made many friends and 
accumulated much valuable acquaintance while there. 
Soon she went to Shelbyville, from whence she found, 
much to her annoyance, that Bragg had removed his 
headquarters — and where she could not ascertain. But, 
ever alive to any opportunity that offered of doing good 
to her country, she acquired some valuable information 
which more than compensated her for the frustration of 
her original object in visiting Shelbyville. It chanced 
that she learned that at the same hotel table where she 
dined there sat a young officer of engineers, who was 
engaged in drawing important plans for the rebel gov- 
ernment. She immediately conceived the plan of 
8 



114 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

obtaining these plans, at whatever risk to herself, and 
to get back to the Federal lines, which she thought 
could be easily effected, and in time to be of the utmost 
service to her country. As an excuse for wishing to re- 
turn to the Federal lines, she would represent that 
having been hurriedly sent out of Nashville by the 
Federal officers, she had been compelled to leave all her 
theatrical wardrobe behind her in her flight,, and now 
she was desirous of recovering it, so that she might be 
able to accept some engagement at some of the theatres 
throughout the country, and earn enough money to en- 
able her to pursue her journey in search of her brother. 
Luckily, as if to further her plans, about this time, she 
received the offer of an engagement from the manager 
of the Richmond theatre, which of course tallied exactly 
with her scheme. Her next move was to get acquainted 
with the young engineer officer, which was soon effected 
by a letter of safeguard given her by one of her Shelby- 
ville friends. Major Boone ; and soon, with her pretty 
woman's ways, she had won his entire confidence so 
completely, that he even offered to give her letters of 
introduction to General Bragg. Calling upon him at 
his office, she was warmly welcomed, and finally excu- 
sing himself whilst he retired to an adjoining room to 
write the promised letters of introduction. Miss Cush- 
man found herself alone in the room with the much 
coveted plans and drawings. In the few moments which 
elapsed during his absence from the room, she contrived 
to slip the plans into her bosom, and when he returned, 
she received from him the letters and left him as unsus- 
pecting and as pleasant as ever — unconscious of his 
loss. Shortly after she left Shelbyville on her way to 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOFTS. AND DETECTIVES. 115 

Nashville ; and, during a short halt, at a place called 
Wartrace, she undertook a scouting enterprise with the 
view of communicating valuable information to some of 
the roving bands of Union cavalry, who were almost 
daily engaged in skirmishing with the rebel cavalry. 
In carrying out this plan, her first requisite was, of 
course, a man's suit of clothes, and to get these she now 
set her wits to work. At the same hotel where she was 
stopping was a young man of about seventeen years of 
age, whose clothes she thought would just fit her, but 
how to get them was the question. With only the 
knowledge that he slept in the upper story of the house, 
but provokingly ignorant of which room he occu- 
pied, she resolved to "scout" around in the dark, and, 
" hit or miss," make a desperate attempt to secure the 
clothes. 

So after a series of adventures in the dark, which 
succeeded only in arousing nearly all the inmates of the 
several rooms on the corridor, our discomfited heroine, 
beating a hasty retreat from the discovery which now 
seemed inevitable, desperately tried the handle of a 
small door near at hand. To her great joy it yielded, 
and slipping hastily in, she found herself in a low, poorly- 
furnished chamber — in which lay sleeping the very man 
whose clothes she had been seeking. Luckily, the up- 
roar in the hall had not awakened him, and waiting till 
all was quiet again, she grabbed the clothes and sped 
silently to her own room. Hastily dressing herself in 
the stolen suit, she crept softly down-stairs, past the 
sleeping negro boy in the hall, out to the stables, and 
there she speedily saddled one of the best horses which 
she could find, and pushed her way out of the town. 



116 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

Into the woods she rode, and finally, when some three 
miles out of War trace, came suddenly upon a guerilla 
encampment, and was busily engaged in playing the 
eavesdropper to their camp-fire conversation when she 
unluckily stepped upon a brittle branch which snapped 
under her feet. Instantly they took the alarm, and she 
scarcely had time to mount her horse before they were 
in full chase after her. Gradually they gained upon her, 
when suddenly she found herself approaching, at full 
speed, a precipitous rock, at the foot of which meandered 
a small stream. It was impossible to check the head- 
long speed of her horse, and her pursuers were close upon 
her ; so, shutting her eyes, and striking the spurs deep 
into the animals fianks, she plunged down the mountain 
side. Her pursuers did not dare to follow, but standing 
at the top of the blujSf, contented themselves with wing- 
ing their pistol bullets after her. Suddenly, just as she 
hojDcd that she was fairly escaped, one of her pursuers 
discovered a bridle path, and the chase recommenced. 
Pushing hastily into the woods which lined the creek, 
Bhe endeavored to regain the road to Wartrace, for she 
was now threatened with two dilemmas ; if daylight 
overtook her before she could get back to the hotel, her 
theft of the clothes and horse would be discovered ; and 
if taken by her pursuers she would inevitably be taken 
to Wartrace, it being the nearest town. On she rode, 
at full speed, until she found herself gaining upon the 
rebel riders, and suddenly came upon a wounded Union 
cavalryman, scarce able to sit upon his horse, from the 
effects of a wound received while scouting, a few hours 
before. She at first mistook him for a '' reb," but 
ascertaining the truth, a plan of escape flashed through 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 117 

her brain, and she quickly revealed to him her sex and 
name, and asked his aid. The brave fellow had heard 
of the " Woman scout of the Cumberland," and, faint 
and wounded as he was, gladly and bravely offered to 
carry out her plan at the risk of his life. Firing hej 
pistol into the air, she instructed the soldier to say to 
the pursuing party, who would inevitably be drawn 
thither by the report, that he had been met and shot by 
a " reb." She told him that he could not expect, from 
his wounds, to escape capture, and advised him to stir 
himself around so as to make his wound bleed afresh. 
He obeyed, and let himself fall off his horse, while Miss 
Cushman gave the animal a sharp blow which sent him 
fljdng down the road; When the rebel horsemen galloped 
up to the spot, they found the soldier lying at the foot 
of a tree, bleeding freely, and in a state of unconscious- 
ness from his sudden fall, while over him bent our hero- 
ine, pistol in hand. To their surprised and hurried 
query who she was, she promptly replied : "'I am a 
farmer's son, over near Wartrace, and I surrender to you; 
but I have shot your best fellow, here, and only wish I 
had shot more of ye." To their astonished looks and 
questions as to what he meant, she replied in the same 
bitter vein ; " 1 mean just what I say. I am only sorry 
that I didn't kill more of you darned Yankees, that 
comes down yhere and runs all our niggers off!" Com- 
pletely misled by her skilful acting, the rebels now saw 
that the boy had mistaken them for Yankees ; and on 
questioning the Yankee soldier, who was gradually re- 
covering from his faintness, the brave fellow, true to 
instructions, designated the " farmer's boy," as the one 
who had shot him, " because he was a Yankee." It now 



lis NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

became evident to the " rebs " that each party had 
mistaken the other for "Yanks;" but for further precau- 
tion, Pauline was ordered to accompany them, and the 
wounded soldier was placed on a horse, and the party 
took up their march to Wartrace. This was a programme 
not at all agreeable to her, and as they rode along 
through the darkness of the forest, she conceived the idea 
of creating a " scare," hoping to avail herself of the con- 
fusion to get off and make her escape to Wartrace before 
daylight should make it too late to escape detection as 
a thief So • is they were passing through a narrow gorge 
of the road, thickly overshadowed by tall forest trees, 
— a nice place for an ambush — she managed to fall behind 
the party and become hidden by a bend in the road. 
Then taking out her revolver, she fired five shots in 
rapid succession. As she expected, her rebel companions 
were startled. Supposing themselves ambushed by Fed- 
eral cavalry, fear lent a thousand terrors to their minds, 
and their imaginations gave new echoes to the reports of 
the pistol. Away the}^ went, pell-mell, and laughing 
heartily at the success of her " scare," Miss Cushman 
rapidly galloped to Wartrace, where she luckily succeed- 
ed in comfortably housing her steed and in returning the 
borrowed clothes, without detection — and, in due time, 
answered the summons of the breakfast bell, as rosy and 
fresh-faced, and as innocent in look and manner, as if 
the night had been spent comfortably in her bed. 

After several stirring adventures at Tullahoma, where 
she made a short stay, she returned to Columbia, where 
she remained awhile, engaged in picking up all the in- 
formation which it was possible to secure. Here, too, 
she met her friends (and lovers too, if truth were spoken), 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 119 

Major Boone, and Captain P. A. Blackman, rebel quarter- 
master, the latter of whom urged her to adopt man's 
apparel and join the Confederate army, with the promise 
of a position as his aide-de-camp, and the rank of lieu- 
tenant. This flattering proposition was accepted — the 
enamored captain forthwith ordered a complete rebel 
officer's uniform, and it was agreed that so soon as she 
should return from her proposed trip to Nashville, she 
should accompany him as aide. Meanwhile, she was not 
slow to accept every invitation from him to ride over the 
neighboring country, thereby gaining t^at complete 
knowledge of camps, fortifications, and the parapliernalia 
of war, which was deemed essential to the new officer. 
It may here be noticed that Miss Cushman now departed 
from the strict instructions which she had received from 
her military superiors, not to make drawings, plans, etc., 
of fortifications ; and at Shelbyville and Tullahoma she 
made careful and accurate drawings, which she concealed 
between the inner and outer soles of her boot. This 
dereliction of duty, though intended for the best, proved 
the ultimate cause of the troubles and miseries which 
afterward befell her. On her return to the house at 
the crossing of the Big Harpeth river, in company with 
the same man who had brought her over before, he in- 
duced her to cross the bridge on foot, saying that the 
ford was impassable, owing to late rains. She did so, 
and instead of following by another ford, he incontinently 
disappeared, leaving her with but a small moiety of her 
baggage, some distance from her destination, and the 
night rapidly approaching. Indeed it w^as quite dark 
when she reached Milam's house, where she hud spent 
the night and sold her horse before going to Columbia. 



120 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

Mrs. Milam, who had before been so cordial, was now 
evidently suspicious, and our heroine's comfort was not 
increased by her interview with the husband on the 
following morning. He informed her that her trunks 
which she had left at Nashville, had been seized by 
Colonel Truesdail, whereupon she made a great show of 
pretended indignation, declaring that she would go to 
Nashville, " if she had to walk all the way," and get 
them back ; and oflering to buy back her horse. Un- 
fortunately, her host, who had made her a confidant of 
his treasonable plans and acts when she was his guest 
on the occasion of her going to Columbia, as he thought, 
permanently, was suspicious of her sudden return, and 
by no means inclined to injure his own prospects, by 
helping her to return to Nashville, where, if false to her 
assumed character, he knew she would "post" the au- 
thorities concerning him. He therefore communicated 
with the nearest rebel scout post, and ere long she was 
placed under arrest, and transferred to Anderson's Mill, 
where she was disarmed and examined by the officer in 
charge. Finding that she had no " pass," she was held 
as a prisoner of war, until her case could be reported to 
and acted upon by General Bragg. Moreover, she was 
not allowed to return to the house at Big Harpeth where 
she had left a satchel containing her rebel uniform and 
several articles of pressing use and value. Fortunately 
she had come across her horse on the road to Anderson's 
Mill, at the house of one De Moss, and claiming him at 
once, had taken possession of him, and as night closed 
in, she found herself again on the road, still a prisoner. 
About noon the next day, her guide stopped with her 
for refreshment at the house of a well-known physician, 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 121 

and while there, a large body of Confederate cavalry- 
passed, under command of the famous General Morgan. 
His attention being called to Miss Cushman, he detailed 
her guard to another special duty, and took her under 
his own care and watch, and she enjoyed his gallant 
attentions until they reached Hillsboro, where she was 
handed over to another scout to be taken to General 
Forrest's headquarters. 

During the long ride which ensued she concocted 
another nice little scheme for escape. Knowing that 
General Rosecrans was much dreaded by the rebels in 
that part of the country, who hardly knew where they 
might next expect an attack from him, she knew that 
if she could raise the cry, " Old Rosy is coming," a gen- 
eral " skedaddle " would ensue, instanter. She felt sure, 
also, that she was not regarded as a very important 
political prisoner, and would probably be dropped imme- 
diately by her guards, in order to effect their own 
escape. Her horse, she noticed, stood still saddled in a 
small outhouse, and the storm which raged with much 
fury, was favorable to her project. ' Watching her oppor- 
tunity, therefore, she made friends with an aged negro 
man about the place, and gave him a ten dollar green- 
back if he would, at a proper time of night, run up 
the road a piece, and then back again, shouting as loud 
as he could, ''the Yankees are coming!" The old ne- 
gro entered heartily into the plan, and carried it out 
successfully. At the darkest hour of the stormy night, 
the whole " negro quarters " poured into the house 
where the guards and their prisoner were sleeping, and 
" the Yanks ! the Yanks am a-coming !" resounded from 
a dozen thoroughly frightened throats. Sauve qui peut, 



122 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTI7ES. 

was the word, the rebels fled incontinently, and our 
heroine, flinging herself upon her horse, sped away on 
the road to Franklin. She had provided herself, some- 
how, with a pistol belonging to a wounded rebel soldier 
in a house where she had stopped ; and pushing her 
way fearlessly along she reached and passed, with 
peculiar adroitness, five rebel pickets, but was finally 
foiled and obliged to turn back before the unswervable 
honesty of the last picket on the road, who would not 
allow her to pass him without the proper document. 
At a house near the road, where death had bereaved 
the family of an infant child, the tired girl found a 
refuge and shelter from storm and fatigue. 

She was awakened from her sound slumbers the next 
morning by the unwelcome appearance of four of the 
rebel scouts from whom she had escaped the night before, 
and who had tracked her all the way from Hillsboro. 
Although she pretended to be glad to see them and ex- 
plained her separation from them as the result of her 
fears of the " Yanks," they were neither gulled nor 
mollified, but grufily ordered her to accompany them 
back, without even taking the breakfast which her kind 
hostess pressed upon them. And soon she was in the 
saddle, and proceeding on her journey, under the care of 
her scouts, who evinced more than usual watchfulness 
over her. She was first taken to General Morgan, who 
received her with his wonted courteousness, and he ac- 
companied her to General Forrest's headquarters. That 
celebrated chief, after a trying examination, sent her, 
under guard, to General Bragg. On arriving at Shelby- 
ville, she was shown at once to the general's headquar- 
ters, which were in the heart of the camp. On entering 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 123 

she was met by a small sized man, with small, dark gray- 
eyes, iron gray hair and whiskers, and bronzed face. 
This was General Bragg. His manner was stern, but 
gentlemanly, and after glancing over the papers handed 
to him by her guide, he began : 

'' Of what country are you a native. Miss Cushman ?" 
he asked, waving her to a chair with his hand. 

" I am an American, sir ; but of French and Spanish 
parentage," she answered. 

" And you Avere born where ?" he asked. 

^' In the city of New Orleans." 

" Hum!" ejaculated the general, doubtingly. "How 
comes it, then, that — that your pronunciation has the 
Yankee twang ?" 

" It comes, probably, from the fact that I am, profes- 
sionally, an actress," she answered promptly, " and as I 
am in the habit of playing Yankee characters very fre- 
quently, it may be that I've caught the " twang " by it, 
and show it in my ordinary conversation, as well as on 
the stage." 

"Hum!" growled the general again. "But what 
brought you down South ?" 

" I was not brought, sir ; I was sent," answered Pau- 
line, proudly. 

" By whom, may I ask, Miss Cushman ?" 

" By the Federal Colonel, Truesdail." 

"And whi/ were you sent F' inquired Bragg, with a 
sly look of incredulity. 

" Because I gave warm utterance to my Southern 
feelings, and refused to take their oath of allegiance," 
replied our heroine, pretending to shed tears, " and a 
pretty way I'm paid for it, too !" 



124 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

" Why wouldn't you take the oath ?" persisted Bragg, 
apparently untouched by her 3^outli and beauty in tears. 

" I had declared that I wouldn't take it, and I meant 
to stick to my word !" replied Pauline, stoutly. 

The general studied the expression of her counte- 
nance for a moment, and then continued. 

" What was the main charge that the Federals made 
against you ?" 

" I had publicly drank to the success of the South 
and our Confederacy. It was on the stage of the Louis- 
ville theatre, and I did it at the request of two paroled 
Confederate officers, who, if they were now here, would 
tell you the same thing," and our heroine related the 
whole occurence of the toast, etc. 

"^ Well, what happened then ?" remarked the general. 

'^ I was at once discharged from the theatre, and went 
to Nashville, where I got a fresh engagement, only to be 
sent away in turn ; for Colonel Truesdail, the chief of the 
Federal army police, getting wind of my Southern sen- 
timents, and hearing of my drinking the toast washing 
success to the South, immediately ordered me to leave 
the Federal jurisdiction, and wouldn't even allow me to 
take my trunk or theatrical wardrobe with me." 

The perfect coherence of her story, and her appa- 
rently calm and truthful manner was not without its 
effect upon the general, who after a brief pause, during 
which he carefully scrutinized her, resumed in a more 
kindly tone : 

" Miss Cushman, this statement of yours may be all 
correct, but still I should like to have you give some 
positive proof of your loyalty to our cause ; for, as it 
stands, I must say it appears, at best, very doubtful." 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 125 

"General," replied Pauline, pointedly, "I have been 
seized and brought hither to meet charges laid against 
me, I presume ; but assuredly not to investigate and de- 
cide my own case. You cannot be expected to believe 
my statement; therefore, all I can say is, to produce 
your charges and the evidence, and when the examina- 
tion is over, I think that my loyalty to the South will 
shine with as bright and steady a lustre as does your 
own. After that, if you still doubt me, or if one sus- 
picion still lingers in your mind, give me a place near 
you in battle, and you will see that Pauline Cushman 
will fight as bravely and faithfully as any man in your 
army.'* 

Half amused, and half convinced by this speech, the 
old soldier continued his searching examination, striving 
in every way to entrap and confuse her, and to elicit 
from her all the information which he could concerning 
the plans, movements, and operations of the Federal 
commanders. She, on the contrary, assumed an inno- 
cent appearance of ignorance on these points, although 
careful to speak the truth in whatever she did say. It 
was a keen contest of wit, and finally the general ter- 
minated the interview by saying, '^ As for yourself, Miss 
Cushman, I have to tell you plainly, that there are very 
serious charges against you, and I must give you into 
the custody of our provost-marshal-general. Colonel 
McKinstry, who is, however, a very just and humane 
man, and who will treat you kindly. Your subsequent 
fate will depend entirely upon the result of our inves- 
tigation." 

" Colonel McKinstry is, then, precisely the man I de- 
sire to see ; for through him will the proofs of my guilt- 



126 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

lessness of these charges appear," rejoined Miss Cush- 
man, boldly, " and if they arc proved ftilse, how then, 
general ?" 

''You will be acquitted with honor," replied he. 

" How, though, if I am found guilty ?" 

"You know the penalty intlicted upon convicted 
spies. If found guilty, you will be hanged," replied 
the general, dryly. 

Leaving Bragg, she was taken before Colonel McKins- 
try and there subjected to another strict examination, 
in which she was interrogated concerning the manner in 
which she became possessed of the Confederate uniform 
found among her effects when captured. To this she 
answered frankly, although, to her annoyance, it caused 
the instant issue of an order for the arrest of the gallant 
captain who had procured it for her. But, finally, the 
colonel produced from his desk the plans, maps, and doc- 
uments which she had abstracted from the rebel engi- 
neer s table at Columbus, together with the sketches and 
memoranda that she had made, of various fortifications 
at Tullahoma, Shelbyville, Spring Hill, etc. Staggered 
almost to fiiintness by the sight of these tell-tale docu- 
ments which she had placed in the soles of her gaiters, 
and which had been purloined from her satchel, left in 
the hurried flight from Hillsboro, she yet assumed a light 
demeanor and admitted that she made the sketches. 
She stoutly asserted, however, with a laugh, that they 
were mere fancy sketches, *' gotten up with the idea of 
stufiing the Yankees when she should find herself among 
them, so that she should be permitted to recover her 
theatrical wardrobe." The colonel, although surprised 
at her consummate and audacious acting, was too old a 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 127 

bird to be caught iti that way, and remanded her to 
custody. She was taken to the house of a Mr. Morgan, 
near Duck river, where she was carefully guarded in a 
room fitted up as a dungeon, with barred windows and 
doubly fastened doors. Hers was now a truly distressing 
and apparently hopeless case. Under the long protracted 
suspense as to her ultimate fate, added to the great 
privations and fatigues which she had previously gone 
through, she fell seriously ill ; and the discomforts of 
her situation — sick and helpless, surrounded by foes and 
strangers — can hardly be described by tongue or pen. 
Long, weary days she lay thus, at the very verge of 
death — the court-martial which had been appointed to 
investigate her case had not yet been able to agree upon 
a verdict, and imagination added its horrors to the dread 
reality of her situation. Ten days thus passed, with the 
dread of death in its most ignominious form, hanging, 
like the sword of Damocles, ever above her head. Finally, 
Captain Pedden brought to her the unwelcome news 
which he tenderly broke to her, that she had been found 
Guilty and that she was condemned to be hanged as a 

SPY. 

The situation of our heroine, mental and physical, 
was now deplorable in the extreme. Condemned to 
death upon the gallows, surrounded by foes, with her 
fate unknown, even to her friends, hers wa*s indeed a 
position to shake the hearts of the strongest and firmest. 
Yet there was a small ray of hope that illumined the 
darkness of this dismal prospect, and that was that, as 
she was still confined to her bed by the deepest physical 
prostration, the rebels would scarcely drag her from there 
to the gallows ; and there was a slight chance that, 



128 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

during the brief respite thus afforded, so me cliange of 
the military situation 7nlg1it yet afford relief to her. She 
well knew that Shelbyville, where she then was, was 
the objective point of the Union army of the Southwest, 
and they might reach there in time to save her from her 
horrid fate. Yet the chances which were thus suggested, 
were too slight to encourage our heroine, who had made 
up her mind heroically to meet her fate ; and she met 
her fearful situation with an angelic courage and sweet- 
ness which won the love of the few friends whom she 
had drawn to her during her imprisonment. 

SloAV^ly and surely the Union army advanced on its 
glorioiyis career, and soon Miss Cushman's guards and the 
Confederate army generally, began to show evident 
signs of evacuating Shelbyville. Finally it was decided 
by a council of war to retreat, and what a thrill of mingled 
hoj)e and joy ran through Miss Cushman's veins as her 
friends announced to her that she would have to be left 
behind, as she was too weak to be moved. Before leav- 
ing the town, however, she was removed to a more com- 
fortable house, and left in the hands of an excellent 
physician, who was Union at heart. At length it was 
rumored that a large body of Federals was just outside 
the town : then followed the battle of Shelbyville, and 
ere long the streets of that town echoed to the tread of 
the Union army and the peal of its bugles. It was a 
moment of supremest joy and ecstacy to the wan and 
feeble girl, who felt new life surging through every vein, 
and springing from her bed, she staggered to the open 
window, despite the remonstrances of her kind hostess. 
As the blessed certainty came upon her, that the Union 
flag once more waved over the town, and that she was 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 129 

mfd, the fictitious strength which excitement hud lent her 
gave way to weakness, and she sank to the floor, over- 
come by joy and haj)piness. Ere the close of that happy 
day, Generals Granger and Mitchell called upon her and 
expressed the liveliest interest in her situation ; the 
brave soldiers heard of the noble woman whom they had 
til MS oj)portune]y saved from a terrible deatli, and, on 
every hand, she received the most tender and convincing 
tokens of the general esteem in whicli she was held. 

At eleven o'clock the next morning, in the general's 
own ambulance, well stocked with all the comforts and 
necessaries which the generosity and courtesy of her new 
friends could suggest, she left Shelbyville pm route to 
Murfreesboro. There a day and a night's rest enabled 
her to take the cars to Nashville ; and under the care 
of an officer of General Granger's staff, who had himself 
done her the honor of attending her thus far, she began 
her return journey to that city. On her arrival there, 
she was waited upon by the most distinguished generals 
of the army, and by others less prominent — all of whom, 
however, were united in treating her with a delicate and 
even affectionate courtesy, which left her no comfort to 
be desired but the boon of absolute health. As a deserved 
and appropriate acknowledgment of the great services 
which this brave girl had rendered the Union cause, she 
was, through the efforts of Generals Granger and Gar- 
field, honored with the commission and rank of a major 
of cavalry, with full and special permission to wear the 
equipment and insignia of her new rank. The ladies of 
Nashville, hearing of her promotion, and deeply sensible 
of the honor thus conferred upon one of their own sex, 
prepared a costly riding-habit, trimmed in military style, 



130 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

with dainty shoulder-straps, and presented the dress to 
the gallant major with all the customary honors. 



Amusing Instance of Rebel Desertion. — After the 
recent advance of our army upon Bragg at TuUahoma, 
and his retreat, the Pioneer Brigade pushed on to Elk 
river to repair a bridge. While one of its men, a private, 
was bathing in the river, five of Bragg's soldiers, guns 
in hand, came to the bank aild took aim at the swimmer, 
one of them shouting : 

" Come in here, you Yank, out of the wet !" 

The Federal was quite sure that he was ^' done for," 
and at once obeyed the order. After dressing himself, 
he was thus accosted : 

" You surrender, our prisoner, do you ?" 

"Yes; of course I do." 

" That's kind. Now we'll surrender to you !" And 
the five stacked arms before him, their spokesman 
adding — 

" We've done with 'em, and have said to old Bragg, 
' good-by !' Secesh is played out. Now you surround 
us and take us into your camp." 

Thie was done accordingly, and is but one of hundreds 
of instances of wholesale desertion coming to the know- 
ledge of our officers during two months — July and 
August — in Lower Tennessee. 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 131 

KELLER OR KILLDARE, 

ONE OF THE SCOUTS OF THE ARMY OF THE CUMBLRLAND. 

Keller, or as he was usually called in the Army of 
the Cumberland, Killdare, was of German, and per- 
haps Jewish extraction, and during the first eighteen 
months of the war had been concerned with Besthoff, and 
three Jews by the names of Friedenburg, in smuggling 
goods into rebeldom, but being arrested in connection 
with them, it appeared that he had not been as guilty as 
the others, and that what he had done had been rather 
to support his family than from a desire to aid the 
rebels. He was therefore released, and being offered an 
appointment as scout in the Union service, he accepted 
it and was of great service to the Union cause. 

In March 1863, he left Nashville on horseback, with 
a small stock of goods, not exceeding one hundred dol- 
lars in value, with the intention of making his way into 
and through a certain portion of the Confederacy. 
Swimming his horse across Harpeth creek, and crossing 
with his goods in a canoe, he journeyed on, and passed 
the night at a house about six miles beyond Columbia, 
having previously fallen in with some of Forrest's men 
going to Columbia. The next morning he started for 
Shelbyville, where he arrived in due season. The oc- 
currences there and in the subsequent portions of the 
trip are best related in his own words : 

" When I arrived, I could find stabling but no feed 
for my horse. I put the animal in the kitchen of a 
house, and gave a boy five dollars to get me a half 
bushel of corn, there being none in the town. I sold 



132 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

the little stock of goods to the firm of James Carr & Co., 
of Nashville, who gave me eight hundred dollars for 
the lot, and then went to visit General Frank Cheatham, 
General Manej, and General Bates, whom I saw at the 
house where T stopped. At the headquarters of General 

Cheatham, Colonel A arrived from the front, and 

stated in my presence that the whole Federal line had 
fallen back; and T further understood from the generals 

present and Colonel A that there would be no fight 

at Shelbyville. The}' said that probably there would 
be some skirmishing by the Federals, but that the battle 
would be fought at TuUahoma, and they had nut more 
than one corps at Shelbyville, which was under General 
Polk. 

" Forage and provisions for man and beast it is utterly 
impossible to obtain in the vicinity of Shelby ville. The 
forage trains go as far as Lewisport, in Giles county, 
and the forage is then shipped to Tullahoma, and even 
farther back, for safe keeping — as far as Bridgeport. 
Confederate money is two for one of Georgia; Tennes- 
Bee, two and one half for one. 

"■ I next went to TuUahoma ; and there I met on the 
cars a major on Bragg's staff, and scraped an acquaint- 
ance through the introduction of a Nashville gentleman. 
When we arrived within a few miles of Tullahoma, he 
made a short statement to me, called me to the plat- 
form, and pointed out the rifle-p^ts and breastworks, 
which extended on each side of the railroad about a 
mile, in not quite a right angle. The whole force of 
Bragg's army is composed of fifty-five thousand men, 
well disciplined; twenty thousand of them are cavalry. 
When I left Tullahoma, I could not buy meat nor bread. 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 133 

When I arrived at Chattanooga, I gave a nigger one 
dollar for a drink of whiskey, one dollar for a small 
cake, and fifty cents for two eggs, which I took for sub- 
sistence, and started for Atlanta. I met, going thither- 
ward, a good many acquaintances on the trains. When 
I arrived at Atlanta, I found a perfect panic in 
money matters. Georgia money was at seventy-five 
cents premium, and going up ; gold, four and: five dollars 
for one. I remained at Atlanta three days. Full one 
half of those I met were from Nashville ; they were 
glad to see me. 

'■^ I commenced my return to Tullahoma with a cap- 
tain from Nashville, who also showed me the rille-pits, 
as I before stated. I made my way on to Shelbyvillc, 
and then I got a pass from the provost-marshal — a 
Major Hawkins — to Columbia, where I arrived on Sun- 
day morning. There I found Forrest and his command 
had crossed Duck river on their way to Franklin. As 
I started from the Nelson hotel to the provost-rnarshaFs 
office, I was arrested on the square as a straggling 
soldier ; but I proved myself the contrary, and started 
without a pass to Williamsport. There some fool askod 
me if I had a pass. I told him 'yes,' and showed him 
the pass I had from Shelby ville to Columbia and the 
documents I had in my possession, which he could not 
read. I gave the ferryman a five dollar piece to take 
me across the river, and he vouched for my pass — when 
I safely arrived at the Federal pickets." 

About a month after this, Killdare made another, and 
his last trip, the full report of which is subjoined. It 
will be seen that he was watched and several times 
arrested. Though he finally escaped, his usefulness {is 



134 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

a spy was totally destroyed, bis name, appearance, and 
business having been betrayed to the enemy. He has 
consequently retired from the business. On his return, 
he made the following report : 

'' I left the city of Nashville on Tuesday, the 14th 
instant, to go South, taking with me a few goods to ped- 
dle. I passed down the Charlotte pike, and travelled 
two miles up the Richland creek, then crossed over to 
the Hardin pike, following that road to Harpeth creek, 
and crossed below De Morse's mill. At the mill I met 

De Morse, who said to me, 'Killdare, do you make 

another trip?' I replied, ' I do not know.' De Morse 
then said, ' if you get below the meeting-house you are 
saved,' and smiled. I proceeded on my way until I 
came to a blacksmith shop on the pike, at which a gen- 
tleman by the name of Marlin came out and asked if I 
had heard any thing of Sanford being killed on the even- 
ing of the loth instant. I told Marlin I did not know 
any thing about it, and proceeded on to South Harper 
to Squire Allison's, which is seventeen miles from Nash- 
ville. I then fed my mules, stopped about one hour, 
and proceeded across South Harper toward Williamsport. 

" About one mile the other side of South Harper, two 
rebel scouts came galloping up, and asked me what I had 
for sale. I told them needles, pins, and playing-cards. 
They then inquired, 'have you any papers to go South?' 
I replied I had, and showed them some recommenda- 
tions. They asked me to get down from my carryall, 
as they wanted to talk with me. This I did ; and they 
then asked : 

" ' Have you any pistols ?' 

*''No,' l' replied. 

" Stepping back a few paces, and each drawing a 

pistol, one of them said, ' you scoundrel, you are 

our prisoner; 30U are a Yankee spy, and you carry let- 
ters from the South, and at the dead hour of night 
you carry these letters to Truesdail's office. We lost a 
very valuable man on Monday while attemj)ting to ar- 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 135 

rest you at your house ; his name was Sanford, and he 
was a great deal thought of by General Van Dorn. So 

now we've got you, you, turn your wagon round 

and go back.' 

'' We turned and went to Squire Allison's again, at 
which place I met Dr. Morton, from Nashville, whom I 
requested to assist in getting me released. Dr. Morton 
spoke to the men, who, in reply, said, '■ we have orders 
to arrest him as a spy, for carrying letters to Truesdail's 
headquarters.' They then turned back to South Har- 
per creek, and took me up the creek about one mile, 
where we met about eight more of these scouts and Col- 
onel McNairy, of Nashville, who was riding along in a 
buggy. The lieutenant in command of the squad wrote 
a despatch to Van Dorn, and gave it to one of the men, 
by the name of Thompson, who had me in custody, 
and we then proceeded up the creek to Spring Hill, 
toward the headquarters of General Van Dorn. About 
six miles up the creek, Thompson learned I had some 
whiskey, w^hich I gave him, and of which he drank un- 
til he got pretty well intoxicated. In the neighborhood 
of Ivy we stopped until about six o'clock in the evening. 
About one mile from Ivy the wheel of my carryall broke. 
A neighbor came to us with an axe and put a pole un- 
der the axletree, and we proceeded on our way. We 
had gone but a few hundred yards when the wagon 
turned over ; we righted it, and Thompson took a car- 
pet-sack full of goods, filled his pockets, and then told 
me ' to go to : he would not take me to headquar- 
ters.' Changing his mind, however, he said he would, 
as he had orders so to do, and showed me the despatch 
written by Lieutenant Johnston to General Van Dorn. 
It read as follows : 

'' 'I have succeeded in capturing Mr. Killdare. 
Archy Cheatham, of Nashville, says Killdare is not 
loyal to the Confederacy. The Federals have mounted 
five hundred light infantry. Sanford's being killed is 
confirmed. (Signed) 

'' ' LiEUT. Johnston.' 



136 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

^' Thompson, being very drunk, left nie, taking tlie 
goods he stole. Two citizens came up shortly and told 
me to turn round, and stop all night at Isaac Ivy's, 1st 
District, Williamson county. There we took the re- 
mainder of the goods into the house. At three o'clock 
in tlie morning a negro woman came and knocked at the 
door. 

" Mr. Ivy says, ' what do you want?' 

" 'A soldier is down at the creek, and wants to know 
where his prisoner is,' was the reply. 

" ' What has he done with the goods he took from 
that man ?' 

"" ' lie has left them at our house, and has just started 
up the creek as I came up.' 

" ' That will do. Go on.' 

" I was awake, and tried to make my escape, asking 
Mr. Ivy if he had a couple of saddles to loan me. lie 
said he had ; and I borrowed from him seven dollars, as 
Thompson took all my money (fifty dollars in Georgia 
currency.) He (Ivy) then told me the route I should 
take — going a few miles toward Franklin, and then turn 
toward my home in Nashville. Taking Iv^-'s advice, 
we proceeded on our way toward Franklin. About 
eight miles from Franklin, four guerillas came up to me 
and fired two pistols. ' Halt !' said they ; ' you want to 
make your way to the Yankees. We have a notion 
to kill you, any way.' 

" The}' then ordered me to turn, which I did, — 
two going behind whipping the mules, and hooting 
and hallooing at a great rate. We then turned back 
to Ivy's. When we got there, I said : 

" Where is Thompson, my guard, who told me to 
go on ?' 

'" He was here early this morning, and has gone 
up the hill hunting you, after borrowing my shot gun,' 
was the answer. 

" Some conversation ensued between the parties, 
when Ivy wrote a note to General Van Dorn and gave 
it to Thompson. Ivy then gave us our equipage, and 
we went toward Spring Hill. On the way we met, ou 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 137 

Carter's Creek pike, a camp of four hundred Texan 
rangers. We arrived at Spring Hill at sundown of the 
day following. At Van Dorn's headquarters I asked for 
an interview with the general, which was not allowed, 
but was ordered to Columbia to prison until further 
orders. 

"On Friday evening, a Nashville soldier who stood 
sentinel let me out, and said : 'you have no business 
here.' I made my way toward Shelbyville ; crossed over 
Duck creek ; made my way to the Louisburg and Frank- 
lin pike, and started toward Franklin. Before we got 
to the pickets we took to the woods, and thus got round 
the pickets. A farmer reported having seen me to 
the guard, and I was taken again toward Van Dorn's 
head([uarters, six miles distant. 1 had gone aljout one 
mile, when 1 fell in with Colonel Lewis's connnand, and 
v/as turned over to an orderly sergeant with whom I was 
acquainted and by whom I was taken to the headquar- 
ters of Colonel Lewis. There I was discharged from ar- 
rest, and was told by the colonel what route 1 should 
take in order to avoid the scouts. I then started 
toward Columbia, and thence toward Ilillsboro. At 
llillsljoro I met a friend by the name of Parkham, who 
guided me within five miles ^ Franklin, where I ar- 
rived at daylight this morning. On Friday last Col- 
onel Forrest passed through Columbia with his force 
(three thousand strong), and six pieces of artillery, to 
Decatur, Alabama. One regiment went to Florence. 
The whole force under Van Dorn at Spring Hill does 
not exceed four thousand ; and they are poorly clothed. 
I understand that the force was moving toward Ten- 
nessee river, in order to intercept forces that were be- 
ing sent out by General Grant. 

"Sam. Killdare." 

This Archy Cheatham, who it appears had informed 
upon Killdare, was a government contractor, and pro- 
fessed to be loyal. The manner in which he obtained 
his information was in this wise. 



138 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

One day a genteel, well-dressed young man came to 
the police office and inquired for Judge Brien, an em- 
ployee of the office. The two, it seems, were old ac- 
quaintances, and for some time maintained a friendly 
conversation in the presence of Colonel Truesdail. The 
visitor, whose name was Stewart, having taken his 
leave, Brien remarked to the Colonel : 

'' There is a young man who can do us a great deal 
of good." 

"Do you know him?" said the colonel. 

" Verv well. He talks right." 

The result was that Stewart and Colonel Truesdail 
soon afterward had a private conversation in reference 
to the matter. Stew^art stated that he lived about 
two miles from the city upon his plantation, that he 
was intimate with many prominent secessionists, was 
regarded as a good Southern man, and could go any- 
where within the lines of the Confederacy. The col- 
onel replied that he wa^ in want of just such a man, 
and that he could be the means of accomplishing great 
good. It was an office, however, of vast responsibility, 
and, if he should be emplo3'ed, he w^ould be required 
to take a very stringent and solemn oath, which was 
read to him. To all this Stewart assented, and took 
the oath, only stipulating that he should never be 
mentioned as having any connection with the police 
office. He was consequently employed, and told to go 
to work at once. 

For a time all seemed well enough. One or two minor 
cases of smuggling were developed by him. He subse- 
quently reported that he had become acquainted with 
the cashier of the Planters' Bank, and a Mrs. Bradford, 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 139 

who lived five miles from the city, and made herself 
very busy in carrying letters, in which she was aided . 
by Cantrell, the cashier. He was also in the habit of 
meeting large numbers of secessionists, among whom was 
Archy Cheatham. He also was a member of a club or 
association which met every Saturday, to devise ways 
and means for aiding the rebellion, and at which Mrs. 
Bradford and Cantrell were constant attendants. One 
day he reported that Mrs. Bradford was just going to carry 
out what was ostensibly a barrel of flour, but really a 
barrel of contraband goods covered over with flour at 
each end. And so it went on from week to week. 
Somebody was just going to do something, but never did 
it, or was never detected ; and, despite the many fair 
promises of Stewart, the results of his labors were not 
deemed satisfactory. 

On the night that Killdare came in from his last trip, 
Stewart was at the office. Something was evidently 
wrong, and Stewart soon left. To some natural inquiries 
of the colonel, Killdare answered, excitedly : 

'' Somebody has nearly ruined me, colonel!" 

" How is that, and who can it be?" 

" Well, I am sure that it is a man by the name of 
Stewart and Archy Cheatham who have done the mis- 
chief Cheatham has been out in the country some 
fourteen miles, and there he met LieutenantJohnston, 
whom he told that I was disloyal to the Confederacy, 
and one of your spies. The result was , that I was 
arrested, and came near — altogether too near hanging 
for comfort. Johnson telegraphed to Van Dorn that he 
had caught me, but I got away j and to make a long 



140 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

story short, T have booiKUTOstcd aiul have escaped three 
thnes/' 

This opened the coloneVs eyes somewhat, and in(pii- 
rics were at once set on loot, whieh diselosed the fact 
tliat Stewart was a rebel of the deepest dye, and had 
been "• phiying oft'" all the time. It was found that ho 
had not only informed Cheatham of Killdare's business 
and position, but had himself been out in the country 
some fourteen miles, and had told the neighbors that 
Killdare had gone south in Truesdail's employ. He told 
the same thing to two guerillas whom he met, and even 
taunted Killdare's children by saying that he knew 
where their lather had gone. The colonel, for once, had 
been thoroughly deceived by appearances ; but it was 
the first and last time. After a month or six weeks' 
search, Stewart was found and committed to the peniten- 
tiary; and before he leaves that institution it is 1)y no 
means improbable that he will have ample time and 
opportunity to conclude that his operations, though 
sharp and skilful, w^ere not of the most profitable 
character. 



A FiGiiTiNC, Parson. — Colonel Granville Moody, of 
the Seventy-fourth Ohio, is a famous Methodist preacher 
from Cincinnati. He is something over fifty, six feet and 
two or three inches, of imposing presence, with a fine, 
genial face and jirodigious vocal range. The reverend 
colonel, who }>roved himself a fighting parson of the first 
water, was hit four times at the 1)attle of Murfreesboro, 
and will carry the marks of battle when he goes back to 
the altar. His benevolence justifies his military liock 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 141 

in the indulgence of sly humor at his expense; but he 
never permits them to disturb his equanimity. Sev'eral 
battle anecdotes of him are well authenticated. Not long 
ago, General Negley merrily accused him of using 
heterodox expletives in the ardor of conflict. 

"Is it a fact, colonel," inquired the general, ''that 
you told the boys to ' give 'em hell' ?" 

" How ?" replied the colonel, reproachfully : " that's 
some more of the boys' mischief. I told them to give 
the rebels ' Hail Columbia ;' and they have perverted my 
language." 

The parson, liowever, had a sly twinkle in the corner 
of his eye, which left his hearers in considerable doubt. 

Our Western circuit preachers are known as stentors. 
Where others are emphatic, they roar in the fervor of 
exhortation, especially when they come in with their 
huge "Amen." This fact must be borne in mind to 
appreciate the story. The colonel's mind was saturated 
with piety and fight. He had already had one bout 
with the rebels, and given them " Hail Columbia." 
They were renewing the attack. The colonel braced 
himself for the shock. Seeing his line in fine order, he 
thought he would exhort them briefly. The rebels were 
coming swiftly. Glancing first at the foe, then at the lads, 
he said, quietly, " Now, my boys, fight for your country 
and your God," and, raising his voice to thunder-tones, 
he exclaimed, in the same breath, ''Aim low!" Says 
one of his gallant fellows, '' I thought for an instant it 
was a frenzied ejaculation from the profoundest depths 
of the ' Amen corner.' " Any day now you may hear 
the lads of the Seventy-fourth roaring, " Fight for your 
country and your God — aim low !" 



142 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 



A DARING SCOUT AND SPY. 

Among the Union men and officers in our armies, 
none have been more earnest in their patriotism, or 
more ready to do and dare every thing for the Union 
cause, than some of the citizens and natives of Southern 
States. To be a Union man in the Southern Atlantic 
or Gulf States, meant, unless the man's social position 
was of the very highest, to be a martyr ; to be robbed, 
persecuted, stripped of all the comforts of life, deprived 
of a home, and often to be conscripted, imprisoned, shot, 
hung, or to suffer a thousand deaths in the tortures and 
indignities inflicted on his helpless family. Yet, with 
all this before them, many Southern men dared to be 
true to their allegiance to the National Government, and 
to enter its service. As was to be expected, these men 
proved the most serviceable and fearless of the Union 
scouts and spies. Their familiarity with the country 
was of great service to them, and the remembrance of 
the wrongs they had endured fired them with an energy 
and zeal, and a desire to punish the foe, which rendered 
them invaluable. Among the men of this class who 
have rendered most efficient service to the national 
cause, was a young Georgian, born of Scotch parents, 
near Augusta, Georgia, in the year 1832. His real 
name was concealed, in consequence of the peril which 
would have accrued to his relatives, had it been known ; 
but he was known to some extent in the Union army as 
John Morford. A blacksmith by trade, he early engaged 
in railroad work, and at the opening of the war was 
master mechanic upon one of the Southern railroads. 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 143 

He was a decided Union man, and made no secret of his 
opinions, and was in consequence discharged from his 
situation, and not allowed employment upon any other 
railroad. Morgan's cavalry was also sent to his farm, 
and stripped it; and when he applied to the guerilla 
leader for pay for the property thus taken, he was told 
he should have it if he would only prove his loyalty to 
the South. As he would not do this, Morgan cursed 
and abused him, threatened to have him shot, and finally 
sent him under arrest to one Major Peyton. The major 
endeavored, but without any success, to convince him 
that the cause of the South was right; but Morford 
proving firm to his Union sentiments, he began to 
threaten him, declaring that he should be hung within 
two weeks. Morford coolly replied that he was sorry 
for that, as he should have preferred to live a little 
longer, but if it must be so, he couldn't help it. Find- 
ing him unterrified, Peyton cooled down, and finally 
told him that if he would give a bond of one thousand 
dollars, as security for his good behavior, and take the 
oath of allegiance to the Southern Confederacy, he would 
release him and protect his property. After some hesi- 
tation — no other plan of escape occurring to him — Mor- 
ford assented, and took the required oath, upon the back 
of which Peyton wrote, '^ If you violate this, I will hang 
you." 

With this safeguard, Morford returned to his farm and 
lived a quiet life. Buying a span of horses, he devoted 
himself to the cultivation of his land, seeing as few per- 
sons as he could, and talking with none. His house had 
previously been the headquarters of the Union men, but 
was now deserted by them ; and its owner endeavored 



144 NAKRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND D1;TECT1V1:S. 

to live up to the letter of the obligation he liad taken. 
For a short time all went well enough ; but one day a 
squad of cavalry came with a special written order from 
Major Peyton to take his two horses, which they did. 
This was too nuich for human nature ; and Morford, 
perceiving that no faith could be placed in the assur- 
ances of those in command, determined to be revenged 
upon them and their cause. His house again became a 
secret rendezvous for Unionists ; and b}'- trusty agents 
he managed to send regular and valuable information to 
General Buell — then in command in Tennessee. At 
length, however, in May, 18G2, he was betrayed by one 
in whom he hiul placed conlidence, and arrested upon 
the charge of sending information to General Crittenden, 
at Battle Creek. He indignantly denied the charge, 
and declared (hat he could easily prove himself inno- 
cent if reU^ased for that purpose. After three days' con- 
linement, this was assented to; and Morford, knowing 
full well that he could not do what he had promised, 
made a hasty retreat and fled to the mountains, whence, 
some days afterward, he emerged, and went to McMinn- 
ville, at which place General Nelson was then in com- 
mand. 

Here he remained until the rebel force left that 
vicinity, when he again went home, and lived undis- 
turbed upon his farm until Bragg returned with his 
army. The presence in the neigliborhood of so many 
officers cognizant of his former arrest and escape ren- 
dered flight a second time necessary. He now went to 
the camp of General Donelson, with, whom he had some 
acquaintance, and soon became very friendl}' there — 
acting the while in the double capacity of beef contractor 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 145 

for the rebel army, and wpy for General Crittenden. 
Leaving General Donelson after some months' stay, 
although earnestly requested to remain longer, Morford 
next found his way to Nashville, where he made numer- 
ous expeditions as a spy for General Negley. Buell was 
at Louisville, and Nashville was then the Federal out- 
post. Morford travelled about very readily upon passes 
given him by General Donelson, making several trips to 
Murfreesboro, and one to Cumberland Gap. 

Upon his return from the latter, he was arrested near 
Lebanon, Tennessee, about one o'clock at night, by a 
party of four soldiers upon picket duty at that point. 
Halting him, the following conversation occurred : 
" Where do you live ?" 

" Near Stewart's Ferry, between here and Nashville." 
'' Where have you been, and what for?" 
" Up to see my brother, to get from him some jeans 
cloth and socks for another brother in the Confederate 
army." 

" How does it happen you are not in the army your- 
self? That looks rather suspicious." 

"Oh, I live too near the Federal lines to be conscripted." 
" Well, we'll have to send you to Murfreesboro. I 
reckon you're all right ; but those are our orders, and 
we can't go behind them." 

To this Morford readily consented, saying he had no 
objection; and the party sat down by the fire and talked 
in a friendly manner for some time. Morford soon re- 
membered that he had a bottle of brandy with him, and 
generously treated the crowd. Further conversation 
was followed by a second drink, and soon by a third. 
One of the party now proposed to exchange his Rosinant- 

10 



IIG NAKKATIVKS OV SlMl-S, SCOUTS, ANH PKTECTIVES. 

ish mniv \ov a litu> horso \v1ho1i Mtu'l'ord rode, ^riio 
latter Nvas not iiiolinod to trailo; hut ohjootioii AvavS use- 
less, and he linally vieUled, reeeivinj:; seviMit v-live dollars 
in Confederate nionev ami tlie mare. The trade pleased 
the soldier, and a present of a pair ot" soeks still further 
enhaneed his pleasure. His eompanions \vere also simi- 
larly tavored, and testified their appreeiation of the gift 
hv endeavoring to purehase the balanee of Minlord's 
stoek. lie would not sell, lunvever. as he >vished io 
send tliem to his brother at KiehnuMid, by a person m\\o 
had given publie notiee that he Avas soon going there. 
A fourth drink made all supremely happy : at whieh 
juneture their prisoner asked permission to go to a 
friemrs house, only a quarter of a mile off, and stay 
until morning, when ho would go with them to Murfrees- 
boro. His friend of the horse-trade, now very mellow, 
thouirht he need not i2;o to Murfreesboro at all, and said 
he would see what the others said about it. Finally it 
was eonelnded that he was " right," and might; where- 
upon he mounted the skeleton nuire and rode rejoieingly 
into Nashville. 

On his next trip southward he wjis arrested by Colonel 
John T. Morgan, just as he came out of the Federal 
lines, and, as his only resort, joined Forrest's command, 
and was furnished with a horse and gun. The next day 
Forrest made a speech to his men, and told them that 
they were now going to capture Nashville. The column 
innnediately began its inarch, and Morford, by some 
means, nninaged to have himself placed in the advance. 
Two miles below Laverc-ne a halt for the nis2;ht wa« 
made ; but Morford's horse was nnrnly, and could not 
be stopped, carrying its rider ahead and out of sight. It 



Nv^KRATIVKS OF SPIES, SC.'OUTS, ASI) OKTF/rnVES. 147 

in r](:(t(\Utm to Hu.y tliat tfjin ol^Htirumy './a-; not ovorcorne 
until NjiHhvillo waHntujcixu], nor that, whon ForrcHtcarno 
thf? noxtrl ay, General Neg]r;ywa« am ply prepared forhirn. 

At this time NasFiville wan invented. IJuell wa8 known 
to be julvancing toward the city, hut no HcoutH ha/1 heen 
able U) ;ro to or come from him. A har)dH<^)me reward 
WXH offered U) any one who would carry a desj^atrjh 
Hafeiy throufrh to JJowJing Green, and Morford undertook 
to doit. J^itting the document under tlj' lining of lii.s 
boot, he Htartcd for Gallatin, where he .'irrived .'afely. 

Fr)r Home PiourH he wauntered around the lAiuta, lounged 
in and out of bar rrxjmH, made friendH with the reFxd 
HoldierH, and toward evening purchaned a Hmall bag of 
cxjrn meal, a bottle of whi.skey, a pound or two of Halt, 
and .some nmaller articleH, which he threw acroHH hiw 
nhoulder and ntarted up the Louifiville road, with }jat 
on one nide, hair in admirable dinorder, and, apparently, 
gloriounly drunk. The pickets jented at and made Hport 
of him, but permitted him trj pawn. The meal, etc., wascar- 
ried nix milen. when hesuddenly tx'cameHO>>cr, dropped it, 
and hastened on to Bowling Green, and there met General 
RosecranH, who had just arrived. IJis infonnation wa« 
vary valuable. Here he remained until the army came up 
andpasHfid on, and then net out on his return on foot, uh hr; 
had come. lie supponed that ourforcen had gone by way 
of Gallatin, but when near that place learned that it was 
Htill in ])0«.seHsion of the reljels, and ho stopped for the 
night in a shanty between Morgan's pickets, on the 
north side, and Woolford's (Unionj, on the south side. 
Daring the night the two had a fight, which finally 
centered around the shanty, and resulted in driving- 
Morford to the woods. In two or three hours he came 



148 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

back for his clothes, and found that the contending 
parties liad disappeared, and that the raih'oad tunnels 
had been filled with wood and fired. Hastily gathering 
his effects together, lie made his way to Tyree Springs, 
and thence to Nashville. 

For a short time he acted as a detective of the arinv 
police at Nashville, assuming the character of a rebel 
soldier, and living in the families of prominent secession- 
ists. In this work he was very successful ; but it had 
too little of danger and adventure, and he returned again 
to scouting, making several trips southward, sometimes 
without trouble, but once or twice being arrested and 
escaping as best he could. In these expeditions he 
visited McMinnville, Murfreesboro, Altamont, on the 
Cumberland mountains, Bridgeport, Chattanooga, and 
other places of smaller note. He travelled usually in 
the guise of a smuggler, actually obtaining orders for 
goods from prominent rebels, and sometimes the money 
in advance, filling them in Nashville, and delivering the 
articles upon his next trip. Just before the battle of 
Stone river, he received a large order to be filled for the 
rebel hospitals; w^ent to Nashville, procured the medicine, 
and returned to McMinnville, where he delivered some 
of it. Thence he travelled to Brady ville, and thence to 
Murfreesboro, arriving there just as the battle began. 
Presenting some of the surgeons with a supply of mor- 
phine, he assisted them in attending the wounded for a 
day or two, and then went to a hospital tent in the 
woods near the railroad, where he also remained one 
day and part of another. The fight was now^ getting 
hot, and, fearful that somebody would recognize him, he 
left Murfreesboro on Friday, and went to McMinnville. 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 149 

He had been there but little more than an hour, having 
barely time to put up his horse and step into a house 
near by to see some wounded men, when two soldiers 
arrived in search of him. Their description of him was 
perfect; but he escaped by being out of sight — the 
friend with whom he was supposed to be, declaring, 
though closely (questioned, that he had not seen and 
knew nothing of him. In a few minutes pickets were 
thrown out around the town, and it was two days before 
he could get away. Obtaining a pass to Chattanooga at 
last, only through the iuihience of a lady acquaintance, 
with it he passed the guards ; but when once out of 
sight, turned off from the Chattanooga road and made 
his way safely to Nashville. 

General Rosecrans was now in possession of Murfrees- 
boro, and thither Morford proceeded with some smuggler's 
goodp;, with a view to another trip. The necessary per- 
mission was readily obtained, and he set out for Wood- 
bury. Leaving his wagon outside the rebel lines, he 
proceeded on foot to McMinnville, arriving there on the 
19th of January 1863, and finding General John H. 
Morgan, to whom he represented himself as a former 
resident in the vicinity of Woodbury ; his family, how- 
ever, had moved away, and he would like permission to 
take his wagon and bring away the household goods. 
This was granted, and the wagon brought to McMinn- 
ville, whence Morford went to Chattanooga, representing 
himself along the road as a fugitive from the Yankees. 
Near Chattanooga he began selling his goods to Union- 
ists and rebels alike, at enormous prices, and soon 
closed them out at a profit of from four hundred to five 
hundred dollars. At Chattanooga he remained a few 



150 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

davs, obtained all tho information he eonld, and returned 
to iMnrfreesboro without trouble. 

His next and hiv^t trip is the most interesting and 
daring of all his adventures. Making a few days' stay 
in jMurfreesboro, he went to MeMinnville, and remained 
there se\eral days, during whieh time he burned lliekory 
Creek bridge, and sent a report of it to General l\oseerans. 
This lie managed with so mueh secrecy and skill as to 
escape all suspicion of eomplicity in the work, mingling 
fiH?elv with the citizens and talkinu' the matter over in 
all its phases. From MeMinnville Morford proceeded 
to Chattanooga, and renmined there nearly a week, 
when he learned that three of our scouts were imprisoned 
in the Hamilton county jail, at Harrison, Tennessee, 
anil were to be shot on the hrst Friday in ^lay. 
Determined to attempt their rescue, he sent a Union 
man to the town to ascertain who was jailer, what the 
number of the guards, how they were placed, and inquire 
into the condition of things in general about the jail. 
Upon receipt o( his report, Morford gathered about him 
nine Union men, on the night of Tuesday, April 21, 
1863, and started for Harrison. Before reaching the 
place, however, they heard rumors that the guard had 
been greatly strengthenVd ; and, fearful that it would 
prove too powerful for them, the party retreated to the 
mountains on the north side of the Tennessee river, 
where the\' remained concealed until Thursday night. 
On Wednesday night the same nnm who had previously 
gone to the town was again sent to reconnoitre the 
position. Thursday morning he returned and said that 
the story of a strong guard was all false : there were but 
two in addition to the jailer. 



NARRATIVES OF SPJKS, SCOUTS, ANU DETECTIVES. 151 

Morfbrd'H party was now reduced to nix, including 
himself; hut Ik; resolved to make the attempt that night. 
Late in the afternoon all went down to the river and 
loitered around until dark, when they procured boats 
and crosse<l to the opposite bank. Taking the Chattanooga 
and Harrison road, they entered the town, looked 
aiound at leisure, saw no soldiers nor any thing unusual, 
and prr;ceed(;d towaj'd the jaiL Approaching (|uit(j 
near, they threw themselves upon the ground and sur- 
veyed the ])remises carefully. The jail was surrounded 
by a high board fence, in which were two gates. 
Morford's plan of operations was quickly arranged. 
Making a prisoner ol" one of his own men, he entered 
the enclosure, posting a sentinel at each gate. Once 
inside, a light was visible in the jail, and Morford 
nnirched confidently up to the door and rapped. The 
jailer thrust his head out of a window and asked wliat 
was wanted. Jle was told, " Here is a ])risoner to put 
jji the jail." Apparently satisfied, the jailer soon opened 
the door and admitted the twain into the entry. In a 
moment, however, he became alarmed, and hastily ex- 
claiming, " Hold on !" stepped out. 

For ten minutes Morford waited patiently for his 
return, supposing, of course, that he could not escape 
from the yard, both gates being guarded. Not making 
his appearance, it was found that the pickets had allowed 
him to pass them. This rather alarming fact made 
haste necessary, and Morford, returning to the jail, said 
he must put his prisoner in immediately, and demanded 
the keys forthwith. The women declared in positive 
terms that they hadn't them, and did n(;t know where 
they were. One of the guards was discovered in bed 



152 XAKUATIVF.S OK SPIES, SClXT'S, AXP DKTECTIVKS. 

and loltl lo cvt tho kovs. Pi\>ving rathor noisy jimi 
saiiov. lio was ivmiiulod that ho miiiht livt liis head 
takoM olV it' lio woiv not quiot — wliii-h intimation 
otVivtuallv siloiuvd liim. Morfoixi ap»iii doniandod the 
ki\vs. and tho wonion. vsonunvhat iVightonod. pno him 
tho koy to tho ontsido dtHM*. Vnlookinix it. and liizlitimr 
lip tho plaoo with oandUvs. ho tound hinusolt' in a room 
aiXHuui tho sides of whioh was ranu^Hi a lino of wi\ni«::ht- 
iixin cages. In ono o\' those wore tivo pei>!ons. I'onr 
white ajul ono negix). rarrving ont the eliaraotor lie 
had assumed of a ivbel soldier in eliarge of a prisoner, 
Morton! talked hai^hly enoimh to tho eaged men. and 
thivatened to hang them at oiioo. at which tliev were 
verv naturally alarmed, and began to hog tor meivv. 
For a third time the keys to tlie inner ivoni, in which 
the scouts weiv. weiv demanded, and a third time 
the women denied having them. An axe was then 
ortieivd to Iv bixnight, but theiv was none about the 
place : so said they. Morfoni saw that they w ere trilling 
with him. and determined to stop it. Snatching one oi^ 
tlie jailer s boys standing near by the collar, and draw- 
ing his sabiv. he told him he would cut his head oiY if 
ho did not bring him an a^xe in two minutes. This had 
the desiivd etTect, and the axe was tbrthcoming. 

Morlbrd now began cutting away at the lock, when 
he W!is startled by hciunng the w ord '* halt !' at the gate. 
Of his five men two were at the gates, two weiv inside 
as a guard, and one wa.s holding the light. Ready lor 
a fight he went out to see what was the matter. The 
sentinel ivporting that he had halteti an armed man 
outside. Morfoni walked out to him and demandt\i : 
• What aiv vou doing here with that mm :" 



NAHRATIVEH OF SPIES, SCXJUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 153 

" MiKH Tiaura Haici you were f>roaking down t,h'; jail, 
iuul I want U) Hee McAllinter, the jailer. Where ih he?" 
was the rej)ly. 

'' Well, KuppoHe 1 am breaking down the. jail : what 
are you going t<j do about it?" 

" I am going trj Ktop it if I can." 

" What'n your name ?" 

" Lowry JohnH^^n." 

By thin time Morford had grasped the muzzle of the 
gun, a»)fl ioM lilrri t^) let go. Instead of r,f)Tnplying, 
Johnson tried Lo pull it away ; but a blow upon tlje neck 
from Morford's wabre soon made him drop it. Morford 
now h(!gan t<j search him for other weapona, but before 
\i(: b;id concluded the operation Johnson broke away, 
leaving a part of his clothing in Morford's hands. The 
latter drew his revolver and pursued, firing five shots at 
him, sometimes at a distance of only six or eight pfices. 
A cry, as of pain, showed that he was struck, but he 
managed U> reach the liotfd (kept by his brother;, and, 
bursting in the door, which was fastened, escaped into 
the house. Morford followed, but too late. Johnson's 
brother now came out and rang the bell in front, which 
gathered a crowd about the door; but Morford, not at all 
daunted, told them that if they wanted to guard the 
jail they had better be about it quick, as he was going 
to burn it and the town in the bargain. This so frights 
ened them that no further demonstration was made, and 
Morford returned t<i the jail unmole.stfid. There lie and 
his men made so much shouting and hurrahing as to 
frighten the people of the town beyond measure; and 
many lights from upper story windows were extin- 
guished, and the streets were deserted. 



154 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

A half hour's work was necessary to break oiX the out- 
side lock — a splendid burglar-prooi' one. Morlbrd now 
discovered that the door was double, and that the inner 
one was made still more secure by being barred with 
three heavy log chains. These were cut in two with 
the axe ; but the strong lock of the door still remained. 
He again demanded the key, and told the women if it 
was not produced he would murder the whole of them. 
The rebel guard. Lew. Luttrell by name, was still in bed. 
Rising up, he said that the key was not there. Morlbrd 
now ordered Luttrell to get out of bed, in a tone so 
authoritative that that individual deemed it advisable to 
comply. Scarcely was he out, however, before Morford 
struck at him with his sabre ; but he Avas too far off, and 
the blow fell upon one of the children, drawing some 
blood. This frightened the women, and, concluding 
that he was about to put his threat in execution and 
w^ould murder them surely enough, they produced the 
key without further words. No time was lost in unlock- 
ing the door and releasing the inmates of the room. 
Procuring their clothes for them, and arming one with 
Johnson's gun, the whole party left the jail and hurried 
toward the river. Among the released prisoners was a 
rebel with a wooden leg, the original having been shot 
off at Manassas. He persisted in accompanying the 
others, and Avas only induced to go back by the intima- 
tion that '^' dead men tell no tales." 

Crossing the river in the boats, they were moved to 
another place at some distance, to preclude the possibil- 
ity of being tracked and followed. All now hid them- 
selves among the mountains, and the same Union man 
was again sent to Harrison, this time to see how severely 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 15 J 

Johnson was woujidod. He returnr d in a duy O!' two, 
and reported tijat lie had a severe sa?>re cut on the 
shoulder, a hullet through the muscle of his right arm, 
and two slight wounds in one of his hands. Morford 
and his men remained in the mountains until all search 
for the prisoners was over, then went to the Cumljorland 
mountains, where they remained one day and a poition 
of another, and then proceeded in the direction of 
McMinnville. liiding themselves in the woods near 
this place during the day, seeing but not seen, they 
travelled that night to within eleven miles of Woodbury, 
when they struck across the road from McMinnville to 
Woodbury. Near Logan's Plains they were fired on Ijy 
a ])ody of rebel cavalry, but, though some forty shots 
were fired, no one of the ten was harmed, Morford ha\'- 
ing one bullet hole in his coat. The cavalry, however, 
])ursued them across the barrens, surrounded them, and 
supposed themselves sure of their game : but Morford 
jind his companions scattered and hid away, not one 
being captured or found. Night coming on, the cavalry 
gave up the chase, and went on to Woodbury, where 
they threw out pickets, not doubting that they would 
pick up the objects of their search during the night, 
Morford, however, was informed of this fact by a citizen, 
and, in consequence, lay concealed all the next day, 
making his way safely to Murfreesboro, w ith all of his 
company, the day after. 



General Palmer and the Hog. — Early one morning 
in 1862, while at Farmington, near Corinth, Mississippi, 
as Brigadier- (now Major-) General Palmer was riding 



156 NARRATIVES OP SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

along bis lines to inspect some breastworks tliat bad 
been tbn)\vii up during tbe previous nigbt, be came 
suddenly upon some of tbe bo}s of Company I, 
Twenty-seven tb Illinois Volunteers, wbo bad just sbot 
a two-bundred-pound bog, and were engaged in tbe 
interesting process of skinning it. Tbe soldiers were 
startled; tbeir cbief looked astonisbed and sorrowful. 

" Ab ! a body — a corpse. , Some poor fellow gone to 
his last borne. Well, be must be buried witb military 
bonors. Sergeant, call tbe oiFicer of tbe guard." 

Tbe officer was speedily at band, and received orders 
to liave a grave dug and tbe body buried fort b witb. 
The grave was soon prepared, and then tbe company 
were mustered. Pall-bearers placed tbe body of tbe 
dead upon a stretcher. Tbe order was given to march, 
and, with reversed arms and funeral tread, tbe solemn 
procession of sixty men followed the body to tbe grave. 
Not a word passed nor a muscle of tbe face stirred while 
the last rites of sepulture were being performed. The 
ceremony over, tbe general and bis staff waved their 
adietix, and were soon lost in the distance. 

The philosophy of the soldier is usually equal to the 
emergency. He has read and pondered. He now 
painfully realizes that flesh is as grass, and that life is 
but a shadow. But he thinks of tbe resurrect iot}^ and 
his gloom passes away. So with tbe philosophic bo^'s 
of Compau}' I, Twenty-seventh Illinois. Ere their 
general was fairly seated at his own breakfast-table, 
there was a raising of tbe dead, and savory pork ste'aks 
were frying in many a camp pan. 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 157 



SCOUTING IN EAST TENNESSEE. 

Edmund Kirke (Mr. J. R. Gilmorc), who has ex- 
plored extensively the regions desolated by the war, 
thus narrates one of the adventures of a Union East 
Tennessean, who had been acting as a scout for General 
Rosecrans, in his little volume " Down in Tennessee :" 

I was dreaming of home, and of certain flaxen-haired 
juveniles who are accustomed to call me "Mister Papa," 
when a heavy hand was laid on my shoulder, and a 
gruff voice said : 

" Doan't want ter 'sturb yer, stranger, but thar haint 
nary nother sittin'-place in the whole kear." 

I drew in my extremities, and he seated himself 
before me. He was a spare, muscular man of about 
forty, a little above the medium height, with thick, sandy 
hair and beard, and a full, clear, gray eye. There was 
nothing about him to attract particular attention except 
his clothing, but that was so out of all keeping with the 
place and the occasion, that I opened my eyes to their 
fullest extent, and scanned him from head to foot. He 
wore the gray uniform of a secession officer, and in the 
breast of his coat, right over his heart, was a round 
hole, scorched at the edges, and darkly stained with 
blood ! Over his shoulder was slung a large army 
revolver, and at his side, in a leathern sheath, hung a 
weapon that seemed a sort of cross between a bowie- 
knife and a butcher's cleaver. On his head, surmounted 
by a black plume, was a moose-colored slouched hat. 



158 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

and falling from beneath it, and tied under his chin, 
was a -white cotton handkerchief stiffly saturated with 
blood! Nine motley-clad natives, all heavily armed, 
had entered with him and taken the vacant seats around 
me, and at first view I was inclined to believe that in 
my sleep the train had gone over to the enemy and left 
me in the hands of the Philistines. I was, however, 
quickly reassured, for, looking about, I discovered the 
Union guard and my fellow-travellers all in their pre- 
vious places, and as unconcerned as if no unusual thing 
had happened. Still, it seemed singular that no officer 
had the new-comer in charge ; and more singular that 
any one in the uniform he wore should be allowed to 
carry arms so freely about him. After awhile, having 
gleaned all the knowledge of him that my eyes could 
obtain, I said in a pleasant tone : 

•'Well, my friend, you appear to take things rather 
coolly." 

'' Oh, yes, sir ! I orter. I've been mighty hard put, 
but I reckon I'm good fur a nother pull now." 

" Where are you from ?" 

'• Fentress county, nigh outer Jimtown (Jamestown). 
I'm scoutin' it fur Burnside — runnin' boys inter camp ; 
but these fellers wanted ter jine Gunnel Brownlow — the 
old parson's son — down ter Triune. We put plumb fur 
Nashville, but lied ter turn norard, case the brush down 
thar ar thick with rebs. They'd like ter a hed us." 

''Oh, then you wear that uniform as a disguise on 
scouting expeditions ?" 

" No, sir ; I never lied sech a rig on afore. I allers 
shows the true flag, an' thar haint no risk, 'case, ye see, 
the whole deestrict down thar ar Union folks, an' ary 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 159 

one on 'em would liouse'n me ef all Buckner's army wus 
at my heels. But this time they run me powerful closO; 
an' I hed to show the secesh rags." 

As he said this, he looked down on his clean, unworn 
suit of coarse gray with ineffable contempt. , 

^' And how could you manage to live with such a hole 
there?" I asked, pointing to the bullet rent in his coat. 

^^ Oh ! I warn't inside of 'em just then, though I war- 
rant me he war a likely feller thet war. I ortent ter a 
done hit — but I hed ter. This war he j" and taking from 
his side pocket a small miniature, he handed it to me. 

It was a plain circlet of gold, attached to a piece of 
blue ribbon. One side of the rim was slightly clipped, 
as if it had been grazed by the passing ball, and the 
upper portion of the ivory was darkly stained with blood; 
but enough of it was unobscured to show me the features 
of a young man, with dark, flowing liair, and a full, 
frank, manly face. With a feeling akin to horror I was 
handing the picture back to the scout, when, in low, 
stammering tones, he said to me : 

"'Tother side, sir! Luk at 'tother side." 

I turned it over, and saw the portrait of a young 
woman, scarcely more than seventeen. She had a clear, 
transparent skin, regular, oval features, full, swimming, 
black eyes, and what must have been dark, wavy, brown 
hair, but changed then to a deep auburn by the red 
stains that tinged the upper part of the picture. With 
intense loathing, I turned almost fiercely on the scout, 
and exclaimed : " And you killed that man ?" 

" Yes, sir, God forgiv me — I done hit. But I couldn't 
holp hit. lie hed me down — he'd cut me thar," turning 
up his sleeve, and displaying a deep wound on his armj 



160 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

" an' thar !" removing the bandage, and showing a long 
gash back of his ear. " His arm wus riz ter strike agin 
— in another minhit he'd hev ckiv my brain. I seed hit, 
sir, an' I fired ! God forgiv me, I fired ! I wouldn't a 
done hit ef I'd a knowed thet," and he looked down on 
the face of the sweet young girl, and the moisture came 
into his eyes : " I'd hev shot 'im somewhar but yere — 
somewhar but yere!" and laying his hand over the rent 
in his coat, he groaned as if he felt the wound. Witli 
that blood-stained miniature in my hand, and listening 
to the broken words of that ignorant scout, I realized 
the horrible barbarity of war. 

After a pause of some minutes, he resumed the con- 
versation. 

" They killed one on our boys, sir." 

"Did they! How was it?" 

" Wal, sir, ye see they b'long round the Big Fork, in 
Scott county ; and bein's I war down thar, an' they 
know d I w^ar a runnin' recruits over the mountins ter 
Burnside, they telled me they wanted me ter holp 'em 
git 'long with the young cunnel. They'd ruther a no- 
tion ter him — an' he ar a feller thet haint grow'd every- 
whar — 'sides all the folks down thar swar by the old 
parson." 

" Well, they ought to, for he's a trump," I remarked, 
good-humoredly, to set the native more at his ease. 

" Ye kin bet high on thet ; he haint nothin' else," he 
replied, leaning forward and regarding me with a pleased, 
kindly expression. '^ Every un down my way used ter 
take his paper ; thet an' the Bible war all they ever 
seed, an' they reckoned one war 'bout so good as 'tother. 
Wall, the boys thort I could git 'em through — an' bein's 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. IGI 

it made no odds to me whar they jined, so long as they 
did jine, I 'greed ter du hit. We put out ten days, 
yisterday — twelve on 'em, an' me — an' struck plumb for 
Nashville. We lay close daytimes, 'case, though every 
hous'n ar Union, the kentry is swarmin' with Buckner's 
men, an' we know'd they'd let slide on us jest so soon 
as they could draw a bead. We got 'long right smart 
till Ave fotched the Roaring river, nigh outer Livingston. 
We'd 'quired, an' hedn't lieerd uv ary rebs bein' round ; 
so, foolhardy like, thet evenin' we tuk ter the road 'fore 
hit war clar dark. We hedn't gone more'n a mile till 
wc come slap outer 'bout eighty secesh calvary. We 
skedaddled fur the timber, powerful sudden ; but they 
war over the fence an' on us 'fore we got well under 
cover. 'Bout thirty on 'em slid thar nags, an' come at 
us in the brush. I seed twarn't no use runnin' ; so I 
yelled out : ' Stand yer ground, boj's, an' sell yer lives 
jest so high as ye kin !' Wall, wo went at hit ter close 
quarters — hand ter hand, an' fut ter fut — an' ye'd better 
b'lieve thar war some tall fightin' thar fur 'bout ten 
minhits. Our boys fit like fien's — thet little chunk uv 
a feller thar," pointing to a slim, pale-faced youth, not 
more than seventeen, " laid out three on 'em. I'd done 
up two myself, when the cap'n come outer me — but, I've 
telled ye 'bout him ;" and drawing a long breath, he put 
the miniature back in his pocket. After a short pause, 
he continued : 

'' When they seed the cap'n war done fur, they fell 
back a piece — them as war left on 'em — ter the edge 
uv the timber, an' hollered fur tuthers ter come on. 
Thet guv us time ter load up — we'd fit arter the fust fire 
wuth knives — an' we blazed inter 'em. Jest as we done 
11 



162 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

hit, I heer'd some more calvary comin' up the road, an' 
I war jest tellin' the boys we'd hev ter make tracks, 
when the new fellers sprung the fence, an' come plumb 
at the secesh on a dead run. Thar warn't only thirty 
on 'em, yit the rebs didn't so much as make a stand, but 
skedaddled as ef old Rosey himself hed been arter 'em." 

" And who were the new comers ?" 

'' Some on Tinker Beaty's men. They'd heerd the 
iirin' nigh two mile off, an' come up, suspicionin' how 
things wus." 

" But, are there Union bands there ? I thought East 
Tennessee was overrun wdth rebel troops." 

''Wall, hit ar; but thar's a small chance uv Union 
goorillas in Fentress an' Overton county. They hide in 
the mountins, an' light down on the rebs, now an' then, 
like death on a sick parson. Thar is places in them 
deestricts thet a hundred men kin hold agin ten thousand. 
They know 'em all, 'case they wus raised thar, an' they 
know every bridle path through the woods, so it's well 
nigh unpossible ter kotch 'em. I reckon thar's a hundred 
on 'em, all mounted, an' bein' as they haint no tents, 
nor wagins, nor camp fixin's, they git round mighty 
spry. Thar scouts is allers on the move, an' wharever 
thar's a showin', they pounce down on the rebs, cuttin' 
'em ter pieces. Thet's the how they git powder an' pro- 
visions. They never trouble peaceable folk, an' haint 
no sort o' 'spense ter guverment ; but they does a heap 
uv damage ter the secesh." 

" Well, they did you a 'powerful' good turn." 

"They did thet; but we lost one on our boys. He 
war only sixteen — brother ter thet feller thar," pointing 
to a young man sitting opposite. " They hung his 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 163 

father, an' now — they's killed him," and he drew a deep 
sigh. 

" Why did they hang his father ?" 

" Wall, ye see, they kimscripted him — he war over 
age, but they don't mind thet — an' he desarted, meanin' 
ter git ter the Union lines. They kotched him in the 
woods, an' hung him right up ter a tree." 

" Was only one of your men hurt ?" 

"Yes, two on 'em wus wounded too bad ter come wuth 
us. The calvary toted 'em off ter the mountins, an' I 
reckon they'll jine 'em when they gits round. But we 
left elevin uv the rebs dead on the ground." 

"Did your men kill so many ? The cavalry had a 
hand in that, I suppose ?" 

" Yes, they killed two — thet's all. They couldn't git 
at 'em, they run so. We done the rest." 

" You must have fought like tigers. How many were 
wounded ?" 

" Nary one ; what wan't dead the boys finished." 

"You don't mean to say that your men killed the 
wounded after the fight f 

" I reckon they did — some four on 'era." 

" My friend, that's nothing but murder. I had hoped 
the rebels did all of that work." 

" Wall, they does — anuff on hit ; an' I never could 
bring my mind ter think it war right or human : but I 
s'pose thet's case I never bed a father hung, or a sister 
ravig'd, or a old mother shot down in har bed. Them 
things, you knows, makes a difference." 

" And have any of your men suffered in such ways V 

" In sech ways ? Thar haint one on 'em but kin tell 
you things 'ud turn yer blood ter ice. D'ye see thet fel- 



104 XARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

lev tliar ?" pointing to a thin, sallow faced man, two seats 
in our rear. '' Not two months gone, some twenty rebs 
come tor his house while he war layin' out in the woods, 
an' toted his wife — as young an' purty a 'oman as yer 
own sister — off 'bout a mile, an' thar tuk thar will uv 
her — all on 'em ! She made out ter crawl home, but it 
killed har. He warn't wuth har when she died, an' hit 
wus well he warn't, fur he'd hev gone clean crazy ef he 
bed been. He's mor'n half thet now — crazy fur blood ! 
An' kin ye blame him ? Kin ye 'spect a man thet's lied 
sech things done ter him ter show quarter ? 'Taint in 
natur' ter do hit. All these boys hes bed jest sich, an' 
things like hit ; an' they go in ter kill or be kilt. They 
doan't ax no marcy, an' they doan't show none. Nigh 
twenty thousand on 'em is in Burnside's an' old Rosey's 
army, an' 3'e kin ax them if they doan't fight like devils. 
The iron has entered thar souls, sir. They feel tliey's 
doin' God sarvice — an' they is — when they does fur a 
secesli. An' when this war ar over — ef it ever ar over 
— thar'U be sech a reckonin' wuth the rebs uv East 
Tennessee as creation never know'd on afore. Thar 
wont be one on 'em left this side uv hell !" This was 
said with a vehemence that startled me. His eyes 
actually blazed, and every line on his seamed face 
quivered with passion. To change the subject, I asked : 
" And what did you do after the fight ?" 
" Not knowin' what moight happen, we swapped does 
with sech uv the rebs as bed gray 'uns, an' put North — 
plumb fur the mountins. Nigh outer Meigsville we 
come outer a Union man, who holped us ter cut some 
timber an' make a raft — fur we 'lowed the secesh would 
track us wuth houns, an' ter throw 'em off the scent we 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 165 

hed ter take ter the w<ater. We got inter Obey's Fork, 
an' floated down ter the Cumberland ; hidin' in the bushes 
in the daytime, an' floatin' at night. We got nigh onter 
Carthage, an' knowin' the river wan't safe no longer, \\ ^ 
left hit an' struck 'cross fur the railroad. Thet kentry 
ar full uv rebs, but hevin' the secesh does on, we made 
out ter git 'nuff ter eat till we got yere." 



BIBLE SMITH, 

THE EAST TENNESSEE SCOUT AND SPY. 

No troops in the Union service were more thoroughly 
patriotic than the Union men of East Tennessee. Mostly 
of Scotch Irish stock, and often imbued with the most 
profound and earnest religious sentiment, they united 
the earnest puritanism of Cromwell's Ironsides to the skill, 
tact, and daring of the pioneers of the border. These 
qualities, added to their thorough knowledge of the coun- 
try, and its inhabitants, and a sort of free masonry which 
prevailed among the hunted and persecuted Union men 
of the region made them invaluable as scouts and spies. 
Among them all none perhaps acquired more renown or 
accomplished more for the benefit of the Union armies 
of the Cumberland and the Ohio, in their great work of 
putting down the rebellion, than William Jehosaphat 
Smith, better known throughout East Tennessee as Bible 
Smith from his Scriptural middle name. Smith was one 
of the middle class of farmers of that mountain region ; 
and had had very little education; his wife, who, as was 



166 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

often the case with the class to which she belonged, was 
of somewhat higher social position than her husband, 
and better educated, had taught him to read. He was 
a man of very strong affections, and was deeply attached 
to his wife, whom he regarded as almost a superior being. 
Next to her his most ardent love was bestowed on the 
flag of his country. For it and the cause it represented 
he would dare any thing and every thing. Mr. J. R. 
Gilmore ('' Edmund Kirke") gives an admirable history 
of Smith's experiences in connection with the war and 
as a scout, from which we quote the following: 

Seated after dinner on the piazza of the hospitable 
Southern lady, Bible told me his story. 

He had been stripped of all his property, his wife and 
children had been driven from their home, his house had 
been burned to the ground, and he himself hunted 
through the woods like a wild beast, because he had re- 
mained true to what he called democratic principles — 
" free schools, free speech, free thought, and free a'r fur 
all o' God's critters." 

The world went well with him till the breaking out 
of the rebellion. That event found him the owner of 
fifteen likely negroes, a fine plantation of nine hundred 
and thirty acres, and a comfortable frame dwelling and 
out-buildings. His elder daughter had married a young 
farmer of the district, and his younger — little Sally, 
whom I remembered as a rosy-cheeked, meek-eyed, wee 
thing of only seven years — had grown up a w^oman. 

In the spring of 1861, when there w^ere no Union 
troops south of the Ohio, and the secession fever was 
raging furiously all over his county, he organized one 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 167 

hundred and six of his neighbors into a company of 
Home Guards, and was elected their captain. They 
were pledged to resist all attacks on the person or prop- 
erty of any of their number, and met frequently in the 
woods in the vicinity of their homes. This organization 
secured Bible safety and free expression of opinion till 
long after Tennessee went out of the Union. In fact, 
he felt so secure that, in 1862 — a year after the State 
seceded — under the protection of his band of Home 
Guards, he inaugurated and carried through a celebration 
of the fourth of July at Richmond, Tennessee, under the 
very guns of a rebel regiment then forming in the town. 

An act of so much temerity naturally attracted the 
attention of the Confederate authorities, and not lone: 
afterward he was roused from his bed one morning, before 
daybreak, by three hundred armed men, who told him 
that he was a prisoner, and that all his property was 
confiscated to the Government. They at once enforced 
the ''confiscation act;" ''and this," he said, taking from 
his wallet a piece of soiled paper, " ar' whot I hed ter 
'tribute ter the dingnation consarn. It'r Sally's own 
handwrite, an' I knows ye loikes liar, so ye kin hev it, 
fur it'll nuver be uv no manner uv account ter me." 

The schedule is now before me, and I copy it verbatim: 
"14 men and wimmin" (Jake eluded the soldiers and 
escaped to the woods), "1600 barrils corn, 130 sheeps, 
700 bushls wheat, 440 barley, 100 rye, 27 mules, 5 cow- 
brutes, 105 head hogs, 17 horses and mars, and all they 
cud tote beside." 

"Wall, they tied me hand an' fut," he continued; 
"an' toted me off ter the Military Commission sittin' ter 
Chattanooga. I know'd whot thet meant — a short 



168 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

prayer, a long rojie, an' a break-down danced on the top 
o' nothin'. Better men nur me lied gone thet way ter 
the Kingdom — sevin on 'em wuthin a month — but I de- 
tarmined I wouldn't go ef I could holp it; not thet I 
'jected ter the journey, only ter goin' afore uv Sally. 
Ye sees, I hedn't been nigh so good a man as I'd orter 
be, au' I reckoned Sally — who, ye knows, ar the best 
'ooniau thet uver lived — I reckoned she, ef she got tliar 
a leetle afore o' me, could sort o' put in a good word wuth 
the Lord, an' git Him ter shot His eyes ter a heap o' my 
doin's ; an' sides, I should, I know'd, feel a mighty strange 
loike up thar without liar. A\^all, T detarmined not ter 
go, so thet night, as we war camped out on the ground, 
T slid the coil, stole a nag, an' moseyed off. Howsumuver, 
1 hedn't got morc'n a hun'red rods, Tore the •/• led 
Secesh yered me, an' the buUets fell round me thickei'n 
tar iu January. They liit the boss, winged me a trifle, 
an' in loss nur ten minnits, bed me tighter'n uver. They 
swore a streak uv blue brimstun', an' said they'd string 
me up ter oust, but I telled 'em they wouldn't, 'case I 
know'd I war a gwine ter live ter holp do thet ar' same 
turn fur Jeff. Davis. Wall, I s'pose my impudence lied 
suthin' ter do wuth it, fur they didn't hang me — ye 

mouglit know thet, Mr. , fur, ye sees, I lies a 

good neck fur stretchin' yit. 

'• Wall we got ter Chattanooga jest arter noon. The 
Commission they bed too many on hand thet day ter 
'tend ter my case, an' the jail wus chock-heapin', so they 
put me inter a tent under guard uv a hull Georgy regi- 
ment. Things hu'k'il 'mazin' squally, an' much as I de- 
tarmined ter be a man, my heart went clean down inter 
my boots whenuver I thort uv Sall}^ I iiuver felt so. 



NAIIRATIVKS OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 169 

afore or sencc, fur then I hedn't got used ter luckin' at 
the gallus uvery day. 

" Wall, / didn't know whot ter do, but thinkin' the 
Lord did, I kneeled down an' prayed right smart. I 
tolled Him I hedn't no face ter meet Him afore I'd a 
done suthin' fur the kentry, an' tliet Sally's heart would 
be clean broke ef I went afore har, but, howsumuver, I 
said. He know'd best, an' ef it war His will, I hed jest 
nothin' ter say agin it. Thet's all I said, but I said it 
over an' over, a heap o' times, an it war right dark when 
I got off uv my knees. The Lord yered me, thet's sar- 
tin, 'case I hedn't mor'n got up fore a dirty grey-back, 
drunker'n a member uv Congress, staggered inter the 
tent. I reckon he thort he war ter home, fur he drap- 
ped wn outer the ground an' went ter sleep, wuthout 
so Inuch as axin' ef I was willin'. 

" Then it come inter my head, all ter onst, whot ter 
do. Ye sees, the critters lied tied me hand an' fut, an' 
teddered me wuth a coil ter one o' the tent stakes, so I 
couldn't move only jest so fur ; but the Lord He made 
the drunken feller lop down jest inside uv reachin'. 
Wall, when I war shore he war dead asleep, I rolled 
over thar, drawed out the bowie-knife in his belt wuth 
my teeth, an' sawed off my wristlets in no time. Ye 
kin reckon it didn't take long ter undo the 'tother coils, 
an' to 'propriate his weapons, tie 'im hand an' fut loike 
I war, strip off his coat, put mine outer 'im, swap hats, 
an' pull the one I guv him down onter his eyes loilce as 
ef he never wanted to see the sun agin. When I'd a 
done thet, I stopped ter breathe, an' luckin' up I seed a 
light a comin'. I 'spicioned it war ter 'xamine arter me, 
so I slunlv down inter a corner o' the tent, jest aside 



170 Narratives of spies, scouts, and detectives. 

the door. They wus a leftenant, an' three privits, 
makin' the rounds, an' the light showed me nigh onter 
a army uv sentinels all about thar, Thet warn't no way 
encouragin', but sez I ter myself : ' Bible,' sez I, ' be 
cool an' outdacious, an' ye'll git out o' this, yit;' so, 
when the leftenant luck'd in, an' sayin' : 'AH right,' put 
out agin, I riz up, an' jined the fellers as wus a foUerin' 
on him. I kept in the shadder, an' they, supposin' I 
war one on 'em, tuck no kind uv notice uv me. We'd 
luck'd arter three or four pore prisoners loike I war, 
when I thort I'd better be a moseyin', so I drapped 
ahind, an' arter a while dodged out beyont the second 
line o' pickets. I'd got nigh onter a patch uv woods 
half a mile oiF, when all ter onst a feller sprung up frum 
a clump uv bushes, yelled, ' Halt,' an' pinted his 
musket stret at me. I mought hev eended 'im, but I 
reckoned others wus nigh, an' sides, I nuver takes 
humin life ef I kin holp it ; so I sez ter 'im ; ' Why, 
Lord bless me, cumrad', I didn't seed ye.' ' I s'pose ye 
didn't. Whot is ye doin' yere ?' sez he. ' Only pursuin' 
a jug o' blue ruin I'se out thar hid under a log,' sez I. 
^ Ye knows it'r agin rule to tote it inside, but a feller 
must licker.' ' Wall, licker up ter-morrer,' sez he. 
* We's got 'ticklar orders ter let no 'un out ter-night. 
' Blast the orders,' sez I. '^ Ye'd loike a swig yerself.' 
' Wall, I would,' sez he. ' Wull you go snacks ?' ' Yas,' 
sez I ; ' an' guv ye chock-heapin measure, for 1 7mist hev 
some o' thet afore morn in'.' 

" Thet brung him, an' I piked off for the ruin. (It 
warn't thar, ye knows — I nuver totch the dingnation 
stuff.) Ye'd better b'lieve the grass didn't grow under 
my feet when onst I got inter the woods. I plumbed 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 171 

my coorse by the stars, an' made ten right smart miles 
in no time. Then it come inter my head thet I'd a 
forgot all about the Lord, so I kneeled down right thar, 
an' thanked Him. I telled Him I seed His hand jest 
so plain as ef it war daytime, an' thet, as shore as my 
name war Bible, I'd fuller His lead in futur' — an' I'se 
tried ter, uver sense. 

'^ I'd got to be right well tuckered out by thet time — 
the 'citement, ye see, hed holt me up, but I'd no sooner 
gone to prayin' fore my knees guv out all ter onst — so, 
I put fur a piece uv timber, lay down under a tree, an' 
went ter sleep. I must hev slept mighty sound, fur, 
long 'bout mornin', some'un hed ter shuck me awful 
hard, an' turn me clar over, 'fore it woked me. I got 
up. 'Twar nigh so light as day, though 'twarn't sun-up. 
Yit I luck'd all around an' didn't see a soul ! Now, 
what d'ye s'pose it war that woked me ?" 

'' Your own imagination, I reckon. You were dream- 
ing, and in your dream you thought some one shook 
you," I replied. 

" No ; 'twarn't thet. I nuver dreams. It war the 
Lord ! An' He done it 'case I'd prayed ter' im. I'se 
nuver gone ter sleep, or woke up, sense, wuthout prayin' 
ter Him, an' though I'se been in a heap uv wuss fixes 
nur thet. He's got me out uv all on 'em, jest 'case I does 
pray ter Him." 

I did not dispute him. Who that reads the New 
Testament as Bible reads it — like a little child — can 
dispute him. In a moment he went on with his story. 

'' Wall, I luck'd all round, an' seed nuthin', but I 
yered — not a mile off — the hounds a bayin' away loikc 
a young thundergust. They wus arter me, an' thet 



172 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

wus the why the Good Lord woked me. I luck VI at the 
'volver I'd stole from the sodger, seed it war all right, 
an' then chimb a tree. 'Bout so quick as it takes ter 
tell it, the hounds — two 'maizin' fine critters, wuth a 
hun'red an' fifty apiece — wus on me. I run my eye 
'long the pistol-barr'l, an' let drive. It tuck jest two 
shots ter kill 'em. I know'd the Secesh wus a foUerin' 
the dogs, so ye'd better b'lieve I made purty tall racin' 
time till I got ter the eend uv the timber. 

'' Just at night I run agin some darkies, who guv me 
suthin ter eat, an' nothin' more happen'd 'fore the next 
night, when I come in sight o' home. I got ter the edge 
uv the woods, on the hill jest ahind uv my barn, 'bout 
a hour by sun ; but I darn't go down, fur, ye knows, 
the house stood in a clarin', an' some uv the varmints 
mought be a watchin' fur me. I lay tliar till it war 
thick dark, an' then I crept ter the r'ar door. I listened ; 
an' Avliot d'ye 'spose I yered ? Sail}' a prayin' — an' 
prayin' fur me, so 'arnest an' so tender loike, thet I sot 
down on the door step, an' cried loike a child — I did." 

Here the rouirh, stronji; man bent down his head and 
wept again. The moisture filled my own eyes as he 
oontinued : 

"She telled the Lord how much I war ter bar; how 
she'd a loved me uver sense she'd a fust seed me ; how 
'fore har father, or mother, or even the chillen, she loved 
me ; how she'd tried ter make me love Him ; how she 
know'd thet, way down in my heart, I did love Him, 
though I didn't say so, 'case men doan't speak out 'bout 
sech things loike wimmin does. An' she telled Him 
how she hed tried ter do His will ; tried ter be one on 
His raal chillen ; an' she telled Him He hed promised 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 173 

not ter h.y onter His cliillen no more'n tliey could 
b'ar, an' she couldn't b'ar ter hev me hung up as ef I war 
a traitor : thet she could part wuth me if it war best ; 
thet she could see me die, an' not weep a tear, ef I could 
only die loike a man, wuth a musket in my hand, a doin' 
suthin' for my kentry. Then she prayed Him ter send 
me back ter bar i'ur jest one day, so she mought ax me 
once more ter love Him — an' she know'd I would love 
Him ef she axed me agin — an' she said ef He'd only do 
thet, she'd — much as she loved me — she'd send me 
away, an' guv me all up ter Him an' the kentry fur 
uver ! 

" I couldn't stand no more, so I opened the door, 
drapped onter my knees, tuck bar inter my arms, lay 
my head on bar shoulder, an' sobbed out : ' The Lord 
hes yered ye, Sally ! I wull love Him ! I wuU be 
worthy of sech love as y's guv'n me, Sally !' " 

He paused for a moment, and covered his face with his 
hands. When he spoke again there was a softness and 
tenderness in his tone that I never heard in the voice 
of but one other man. 

" Sense thet minnit this yerth hes been another yerth 
ter me; an' though I'se lost uverythin'; though I lies no 
home ; though night arter night I sleeps out in the cold 
an' the wet, a scoutin' ; though my wife an' chillen is 
scattered ; though nigh uvery day I'se in danger uv the 
gallus ; though I'se been roped ter a tree ter die loike a 
dog ; though a thousand bullets hes yelled death in my 
yercs ; though I'se seed my only boy shot down afore my 
vury eyes, an' I not able ter speak ter him, ter guv him 
a mossel uv comfort, or ter yere his last word, I'se bed 
suthin allers yere (laying his hand on his heart) thet 



174 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

lies holt me up, an' made me luck death in the face as 

of I loved it. An ef ye hain't got thet, Mr. , no 

matter whot else ye's got, no matter whot money, or 
larnin', or friends, ye's pore — porer nur I ar!" 

I made no reply, and after a short silence he resumed 
his story. 

" Jake — that war my boy — ye remember him, ye hed 
him on yer knee — he war eighteen an' a man grow'd 
then : wall, Jake an' me made up our minds ter pike 
fur the Union lines ter oust. Sally war all night a 
cookin' fur us, an' we a gittin' the arms an' fixin's a 
ready — we hed lots o' them b'longin' ter the Guards, 
hid away in a panel uv the wall — an' the next day, 
meanin' ter start jest arter sunset, we laid down fur 
some sleepin'. Nigh onter dark. Black Jake, who war 
a watchin', come rushin' inter the house, sayin the 
secesh wus a comin'. Thar wus only twenty on 'em, 
he said, an' one wus drunk an' didn't count fur nuthin', 
so, we detarmined ter meet 'em. We tuck our stands 
nigh the door, each on us men — Black Jake, the boy, 
an' me — wuth a Derringer in his pocket, two 'volvers in 
his belt, an' a Bowie-knife in the breast uv his waistcoat, 
an' the wimmin wuth a 'volver in each hand, an' waited 
fur 'em. Half a dozen on 'em went round ter the r'ar, 
an' the rest come at the front door, yellin' out : 

" ^ We doan't want ter 'sturb ye. Miss Smith (they's 
chivurly, ye knows), but we reckons yer husban' ar 
yere, an' we must sarch the house. We hes orders ter 
take him.' 

"I opened the door stret off, an' steppin' down onter 
the piazzer — Black Jake an' the boy ter my back, an' 
the wimmin' ter the winder — I sez ter 'em : 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 175 

^''Wall, I'se yere. Take me efye kin!' 

"They wiis fourteen on 'em thar, uvery man wuth a 
musket, but tliey darn't lift a leg! They wus cowards, 

It'r nuthin but a good cause, Mr. , thet guvs a man 

courage — makes him luck death in the face as ef he 
loved it. 

^' Wall, they begun ter parley. 'We doan't want ter 
shed no blood,' said the leftenant: 'but we's orders ter 
take ye, Mister Smith, an' ye'd better go wuth us, peace- 
able loike.' 

'•'I shan't go wuth ye peaceable loike, nur no other 
how,' sez I; 'fur ye's a pack o' howlin thieves an' traitors 
as no decent man 'ud be seed in company uv. Ye dis- 
graces the green yerth ye walks on, an' ef ye doan't git 
off uv my sheer uv it in less nur no time, I'll send ye 
— though it'r agin my principles ter take humin life — 
whar ye'll git yer desarts, sartin.' 

"Then the leftenant he begun ter parley agin, but I 
pinted my 'volver at him, an' telled him he'd better be 
a moseyin' sudden. Sayin' he'd 'port ter his cunnel, he 
done it. 

"We know'd a hun'red on 'em 'ud be thar in no time, 
so, soon as they wus out o' sight, the boy an' me, leavin' 
Black Jake ter luck arter the wimmin, struck a stret line 
fur the timber. We hedn't got mor'n four mile — ter the 
top uv the tall summit ter the ra'r uv Richmond — afore, 
luckin' back, we seed my house an' barns all a blazin'! 
The Heaven-defyin' villuns hed come back — shot Jake 
down in cold blood, druv my wife an' darter out o' 
doors, an' burnt all I hed ter the ground ! We seed the 
fire, but not knowin whot else hed happin'd, an' not 
bein' able ter do nothin', we piked on inter the woods. 



176 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

" We traviled all tliet night througli the timber, an' 
jest at sundown uv the next day come ter a clarin'. 
"We wus mighty tired, but 'twouldn't do ter sleep thar, 
fur the trees wus nigh a rod asunder ; so we luck'd round, 
an' on t'other side uv the road, not half a mile off, seed 
'bout a acre uv laurel bush — -ye knows wliot them is, 
some on 'em so thick a dog karn't git through 'em. Jake 
war tireder nur I war, an' he said ter me, ' Dad,' sez he : 

* let us git under kiver ter onst. I feels loike I couldn't 
stand up no longer.' It wus foolhardy loike, fur the 
sun warn't clar down, but I couldn't b'ar ter see the boy 
so, an', agin my judgment, we went down the road ter 
the laurels. We lay thar till mornin', an' slep' so sound 
thet I reckon ef forty yerthquakes bed shuck the yerth, 
they wouldn't hev woked us. Soon as sun-up, Jake riz, 
an' went ter the edge uv the thicket ter rekonnoitter. 
He hedn't stood thar five minutes — right in plain sight, 
an' not more'n two hun'red rods frum me — afore I yered 
a shot, an' seed the pore boy throw up his arms, an' fall 
ter the ground. In less nur no time fifty Secesh wus on 
him. I war springin' up ter go ter him, when suthin' 
tuck me by the shoulder, belt me back, an' said ter me : 

* Ye karn't do nothin' fur him. Leave 'im ter the Lord. 
Save yerself fur the kentry.' It went agin natur,' but 
it 'peared the Lord's voice, so I crouched doAvn agin 
'mong the bushes. I nuver know'd whot it war thet 
saved me till nigh a y'ar arterwuds. Then I tuck thet 
leftenant pris'ner — I could hev shot him, but I guv him 
his life ter repent in, an' he done it : he's a decent man 
now, b'longin' ter Gunnel Johnson's rigiment. Wall, I 
tuck him, an' he said ter me : " I wus aside uv thet pore 
boy when he war dyin'. He turned his eyes on ter me 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 177 

jest as he war goin', an' he said : ' Ye karn't ketch him. 
He's out o' the bush ! Ha ! ha !' He said thet, and 
died, Ter save me, died wuth a lie on his lips ! Doee 
ye b'lieve the Lord laid that agin him, Mr. ?" 

" No, no ! I am sure not. It was a noble action." 

" It 'pears so ter me, but it war loike the boy. He 
war allers furgettin' himself, an' thinkin' uv other folk. 
He war all — all the pride uv my life — him an' Sally — 
but it pleased the Lord ter tuck him afore me — but only 
fur a time — only fur a time — 'fore long I shill hev him 
agin — agin — up thar — up thar !" 

His emotion choked his utterance for awhile. When 
he resumed, he said : 

'' At the eend uv a fortn't, trav'lin' by night an' 
sleepin' by day, an' livin' on the darkies when my fixin's 
guv out, I got inter the Union lines 'bove Nashville." 

" And what became of your wife and daughter ?" I 
asked. 

^' Lettle Sally went ter har sister. My wife walked 
eighty miles ter liar father's. He's one on yer quality 
folk, an' a durned old secesh, but he's got humin natur' 
in him, an' Sally's safe thar. I'se seed har twice ter his 
house. The old 'un he's know'd on't, but he hain't 
nuver said a word." 

Bible's scouting adventures would fill a volume, and 
read more like a romance of the middle ages than a 
matter-of-fact history of the present time. On one 
occasion, when about five miles outside of our lines, he 
came, late at night, upon a party of rebel officers, 
making merry at the house of a wealthy secessionist. 
Riding coolly up to the mounted orderly on guard before 
the door-way, he pinioned his arms, thrust a handker- 
12 



I 
178 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

chief into his mouth, and led him quietlj out of hearing 
Then bidding him dismount, and tying him to a tree, 
he removed the impromptu gag, and levelling a revolver 
at his head, said to him : 

" Now, tell me, ye rebel villun, whot whiskey-kags 
wus ye a watchin' thar ? Speak truth, or I'll guv ye 
free passage ter a hot kentry." 

" Nine ossifers," said the trembling rebel ; a cunnel, 
two majors, a sargeon, two cap'ns, an' the rest lef- 
tenants." 

*' Whar's thar weapons ?" 

'' Thar swords is in the hall-way. None on 'em hain't 

» 

pistols 'cept the sargeon — he mought hev a 'volver." 

'' What nigs is they round ?" 

" Nary one, I reckon, more'n a old man thar (point- 
ing to the kitchen building) an' the gals in the house." 

" Wall, I'll let ye go fur this, ef ye's telled the truth. 
Ef ye hain't, ye'd better be a sayin' yer prayers ter 
onst, fur the Lord wont yere ye on the t'other side uv 
Jmrdan." 

Fastening his horse in " the timber," and creeping up 
to the house, he then reconnoitered the kitchen prem- 
ises. The old man — a stout, stalwart negro of about 
fifty — sat dozing in the corner, and his wife, a young 
mulatto woman, was cooking wild-fowl over the fire. 
Opening the door, and placing his finger on his lips to 
enjoin silence, Bible beckoned to the woman. She 
came to him, and looking her full in the eye for a 
moment, he said to her : ''I kin trust ye. Wud ye 'an 
yer old 'un loike ter git out o' the claws uv these durned 
secesh ?" 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 179 

*'Yas, yas, massa," she replied, 'Sve wud. We's 
Union ! We'd loike ter git 'way, massa !" 

Then awakening her husband, Bible said to him : 
*' Uncle, wud yer risk yer life fur yer freedom ?" 

*'Ef dar's a chance, massa, a right smart chance. 
Dis dark'y tinks a heap ob his life, he does, massa. 
It 'm 'bout all him got." 

*' Yas, yas, I know ; but ye shill hev freedom. I'll 
see ye ter the Free States, ef ye'll holp tuck them secesh 
ossifers." 

" Holp tuck dem, massa ! Why, dar's a dozen on 'em ; 
dey'd chaw ye up in no time," exclaimed the astonished 
African. 

" No, thar hain't a dozen on 'em ; thar's only nine ; 
but — ^ye's a coward," replied the scout. 

" No, I hain't no coward, massa ; but I loikes a chance, 
massa, a right smart chance." 

Bible soon convinced the negro that he would have a 
^' right smart chance," and he consented to make the 
hazardous strike for his freedom. Entering the house, 
he returned in a few moments to the scout, confirming 
the sentinel's report : the weapons were reposing quietly 
in the hall, near the doorway, and the officers, very 
much the worse for liquor, were carousing with his mas- 
ter in the dining-room. 

Selecting three of the best horses from the stables, 
Bible directed the yellow woman to lead them into tlie 
road, and to bring his own from where it was fastened 
in the woods. Then, with his sooty ally, the scout 
entered the mansion. Removing the arms from the hall, 
he walked boldly into the dining-room. " Gentlemen," 
he said, pointing his pistols — one in each hand — at the 



180 NARRATIYES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

rebel officers, " ye is my pris'ners. Surrender yer shoot- 
iii' irons, or ye's dade men." 

" Who are you ?" exclaimed one of them, as they all 
sprang to their feet, 

" Gunnel Smith, uv the Fust Tennessee Nigger Kegi- 
ment — one old black man an' a yaller 'ooman," coolly 
replied the scout. 

" Go to ," shouted the surgeon, quickly drawing 

his revolver, and discharging it directly at Bible's face. 
The ball grazed his head, cut off a lock of hair just above 
his ear, and lodged in the wall at his back. The report 
was still sounding through the apartment, when the sur- 
geon uttered a wild cry, sprang a few feet in the air, and 
fell lifeless to the floor ! The negro had shot him. 

'■'' Come, gentlemen, none o' thet," said Sible, as coolly 
as if nothing had happened, " guv me the shootin' iron, 
an' surrender, or we'll sot the rest on ye ter his wuck — 
rakin' coals fur the devil's funnace — in less nur a min- 
nit." 

Without more hesitation the rebel colonel handed the 
scout the fallen man's pistol, and then all, followed by 
the scout and the negro, marched quietly out of the 
front door. The mulatto woman, holding the horses, 
was standing in the highway. 

" Hitch the nags, my purty gal," said the scout, " an' 
git a coil. An' ye, gentlemen, sot down, an' say nothin' 
— 'cept it mought be yer prayers; but them, I reckon, 
ye hain't larned yit." 

The negress soon returned with the rope, and while 
Bible and her husband covered them with their revolvers, 
she tied the arms of the prostrate chivalry. When this 
was done, the scout affixed a long rope to the waist of 




% 






NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 181 

the officer on either flank of the column, and, taking one 
in his own hand, and giving the other to the negro, 
cried out : 

" Sogers uv the Fust Tennessee ! Mount !" 
The regiment bounded into the saddle, and in that 
pligh t — the planter and the eight captive officers march- 
ing on before, the self-appointed '' cunnel" and his chief 
officer bringing up the rear, and the rest of his command — 
the yellow woman — a-straddle of a horse between them, 
they entered the Union lines. 

On another occasion, hunted down by several compar 
nies of rebel cavalry, Bible took refuge in a grove of 
laurel bushes. Among the bushes was a hollow tree in 
which he had once or twice slept on previous expedi- 
tions. It had been overthrown by a tornado, and the 
soil still clung, in huge boulders, to its upturned roots. 
Creeping into this tree, he closed the small opening with 
earth, and boring a hole through the trunk with his 
Bowie-knife to admit air, and give him a look-out on 
his pursuers, he lay there without food for three days 
and nights. The rebels saw him enter the grove, and 
at once surrounded it, so that escape was impossible. A 
party then beat the bushes, and after examining every 
square yard of the ground, came and sat upon the 
hollow tree. Listening, he heard them recount somei 
of his exploits, and assert very positively, that he had 
sold himself to that notorious dealer in human chattels 
— the devil — who, they thought, had given him power 
to make himself invisible at will. " An' bein' thet's so, 
£umrades," very logically remarked one of the number, 
" doan't it nat' rally foUer thet the devil ar' on the Union 



182 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

side, an' moughtent we 'bout so wall guv it up fur a 
dade beat 'ter oust !" 

When the rebel army retreated from Murfreesboro, 
its advance column came suddenly upon the scout as he 
was eatmg his breakfast in an "oak opening" near the 
highway. There was no chance of escape or conceal- 
ment, for the "opening" was covered with immense 
trees standing fifteen and twenty feet apart, with only 
a short grass growing between them. Bible was dis- 
guised in an immense mass of red hair and beard, and 
wore a tattered suit of the coarse homespun of the dis- 
trict. Knowing he would certainly be discovered, he 
assumed a vacant, rustic look, and, rising from the 
ground, gazed stupidly at the soldiery. 

" I say, green one, what are you doing thar?" shouted 
the officer at the head of the column. 

^' I'se loss my cow-brutes, cunnel," replied the scout; 
"' two right loikely heffers ; 'un on 'em speckle all over, 
'cept the tail, an' thet white'n yer face. Ye hain't seed 
'em no whar 'long the road, nohow, lies ye ?" 

" No, I hain't seed 'em, no whar, nohow," rejoined 
the officer. '"'Come, step into the ranks; we need just 
such fellows as you are. Why the devil haven't they 
conscripted you before. Step into the ranks, I sa}^," he 
repeated, as Bible, not seeming to comprehend his 
meaning, remained standing in his previous position. 
The second command having no more effect on him 
than the first, the officer directed a couple of soldiers to 
take Bible between them, and to f^xll in at the rear of 
the column. It was not till he was fairly in the road 
that the scout seemed to awaken to the reality of his 
condition. 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 183 

'■ Why, why, ye hain't a gwine to tuck me 'long 
o' ye !" he exclaimed, frantically appealing to the 
*' cunnel." '' Ye hain't a gwine ter tuck me 'long o' yei 
Ye karn't mean thet !" 

'^ We do mean that, and you just keep quiet, or, like 
St. Paul, you'll fight against the pricks," said the officer, 
alluding perhaps to the bayonets which the two soldiers 
had unslung and were holding ready to apply to Bible's 
flanks. 

" Why, ye karn't mean thet ! ye karn't mean thet, 
cimnel !" again piteously cried the scout, " Wh — wh 
— whot'll become on the old 'ooman — whot'll become ou 
the cow-brutes ?" 

" D — n the old woman and the cow-brutes," shouted 
the officer, riding forward and leaving the new recruit 
to his fate. And thus Bible marched to the TuUahoma, 
and thus he enlisted in the second regiment of Alabama 
Infantry. 

He remained a fortnight at Tullahoma, and while 
there obtained a correct idea of the number and dispo- 
sition of the enemies' forces, and brought away with 
him, in his head, an accurate map of the rebel fortifica- 
tions. Desertions being frequent, the picket lines had 
been doubled, and when he was ready to leave, it had 
become next to impossible to penetrate them. But he 
was equal to the emergency, and hit upon a bold expe- 
dient which proved successful. 

Restrictions had been laid by the commanding general 
on the importation of whiskey, and the use of that 
article, which is a sort of necessity to the Southern 
'' native," had been prohibited within the lines of the 
army — except on the eve of battle. Then the cold water 



184 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

generals, tlieraselves, dealt it out — mixed with gun- 
powder — to every man in the ranks. The regulations 
concerning it were rigidly enforced in all the divisions 
except Hardee's. That general — to whose corps Bible 
belonged — who has, notoriously, a weakness for ''spirits" 
and negro women, winked at the indulgence of his men 
in those luxuries, when it did not interfere with their 
strict observance of " Hardee's Tactics." 

Knowing his proclivities, Bible, one evening just after 
sunset, took a tin "jug" under his arm, and sauntered 
past the general's tent. 

''I say," shouted Hardee, catching sight of the long 
form of the scout, " where are you going with that big 
canteen ?" 

" Ter git some bust-head, giniral. Ye knows we 
karn't live wuthout thet," replied Bible, with affected 
simplicity. 

" Perhaps you karn't r don't you know it's against 
regulations. I'll string you up, and give you fifty." 

'' Oh, no ! ye woan't do thet, I knows, giniral, fur ye's 
a feller feelin' for we pore sogers," said Bible. " We 
karn't live wuthout a leetle ruin ; wuthout a leetle, 
nohow, giniral !" 

" Where do you expect to get it ?" asked the general. 

" Ter Squire Pursley's," said the scout, naming a 
planter living a few miles outside of the lines. " He's 
got some on the tallest old rye ye uver seed. I knows 
him. An' he's the biggest brandy, too, an' the purtiest 
nigger gal (rolling his tongue in his mouth and smacking 
his lips) thar is anywhar round. She's whiter'n ye is, 
giniral, an' the snuggest piece uv house furnitur' as uver 
wus grow'd." 



V 

NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 185 

" And how do you expect to pass the pickets ?" asked 
the standard authority on " Tactics." 

'^ I reckon' this wull brung 'em," answered Bible, tap- 
ping his canteen significantly. 

^' Well, it wont," replied the general, laughing ; " but 
I'll give you something that will. And here, take this 
canteen and get me some of that ' big brandy,' and tell 
the squire I'll be over there one of these days." 

The general gave Bible a pass, another canteen, and 
five dollars of Confederate scrip, to eflectually " raise 
the spirits ;" and then the scout, saying, " Ye kin reckon 
on gittin' sich brandy, giniral, as wull sot ye up so high 
ye'll nuver come down agin," walked leisurely out of the 
rebel lines. 

Once, while scouting near McMinnville, Bible was 
captured by a small party of Forrest's cavalry. One of 
the Confederates knew him, and he was told he must 
die. Throwing a rope over the limb of a tree, they 
adjusted it about his neck, and the rebel officer, taking 
out his watch, said to him : " You can have five minutes 
to say your prayers." 

"I thanks ye, cap'n," said Bible; "fur thet shows 
ye's got a spark uv humin feelin' in ye ; an' ef ye'll jest 
pile a lettle light 'ood on ter thet spark, it mought be it 
'ud blaze up an' make ye a better man nur ye is, or kin 
be, whiles ye's a fightin' agin' yer kentry. As ter prayin', 
cap'n, I doan't need no time fur thet; fur I'se allers a 
prayin', not wuth words — but silent, deep, down yere" 
— placing his hand on his heart — ''whar I'se allers a 
sayin' 'Our Father!' Our Father, cap'n; yourn as 
wull as mine ! An' doan't ye 'spose He's luckin down 
on ye now, sorry, grieved ter His vury heart thet ye, 



186 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

His chile, thet His own Son died a wus death nur this 
fur, should be a doin' whot ye is? — not a hangin' uv me; 
I hain't no complaint ter make o' thet, fur it'r His wull, 
or ye wouldn't be a doin' on it — but sorry thet ye's lifted 
yer hand agin' yer kentry, agin truth, an' right, an' the 
vury liberty ye talks so much about. Prayin'! I'se 
allers a prayin', cap'n ; allers been a prayin' uver sense 
Sally said ter me: ^Pray, Bible, fur it'r the only way ye 
kin come nigh ter Hitn: it'r the only way ye kin know, 
fur shore, thet ye's His raal chile.' An' I does know 
I'se his chile, 'case I loves ter pray ; an' I'll pray fur ye, 
cap'n — ye needs it more nur me. It woan't do ye no hurt, 
an' it mought do ye some good, fur the Lord promises ter 
yere His chillen, an' He has yered me, over an' over agin." 

The five minutes had elapsed, but the Confederate 
officer still stood with his watch in his hand. At last, 
turning suddenly away, he said to his men : 

"Take off the rope! Take him to the general. He 
may do what he likes with him. I'll be d — d if Til 
hang him." 

Before they reached Forrest's headquarters at McMinn- 
ville, they were set upon by a squad of Union cavalry, 
who rescued the prisoner, captured a half dozen of the 
privates, and gave the captain a mortal wound in the 
side. Bible laid him upon the grass, and, taking his 
head tenderly in his lap, prayed for him. As the captain 
turned his eyes to take a last look at the setting sun, he 
placed the scout's hand against his heart, and saying: 
'^ I'm going now — I feel at peace — I owe it to you — 
God bless you for it, may God forever bless you," he 
uttered a low moan and died. 

While the rebel forces lay encamped around Chatta- 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 187 

iiooga, Bible made tlieni a protossioiial visit. For two 
days, from the top of Lookout Mountain, he looked down 
on their fortifications. With the works fully mapped 
in his mind, so that, in his rude way, he could sketch 
them upon paper, he started, just at nightfall of a murky, 
stormy day, to make his way northward. Arriving 
at the house of a pretended friend, he took supper, and 
retired to sleep in a small room on the ground floor. It 
was not far from eleven o' clock, and raining and blow- 
ing violently, when a light rap came at his window. 
He got up — he alwaj^s slept in his clothes, with his arms 
about him — and applying his ear to the glass, heard a 
low voice say : 

"Ye is betrayed. Come out ter onst. They'll be 
yere in a hour." 

He lifted the sash, and, springing lightly into the 
yard, saw — as well as the night would permit — a young 
octoroon woman standing unprotected in the storm, 
thinly clad, and drenched from head to foot. Leading 
him out into the darkness, she said to him: 

"This man's son war at master's house not a hour 
back. He's telled on ye ter git the reward! They's 
'spectin' the cavalry uvery minnit. Hark ! I yere's 'em 
now!" 

While she yet spoke he heard the heavy tramp of 
horsemen along the highway. Placing her hand in his, 
the woman fled hurriedly to the woods. When they 
had gone about a mile, she paused, and said to him : 

'' I karn't go no furder. I must git home or they '11 
'spect suthin'. When they find ye's gone, the cavalry '11 
make fur the landin'. Ye must go up the river, an' 
'bout two mile frum yere ye'll find a yawl. It'r chained, 



IBS XAKKATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

but ye kin break tliet. Doan't cross over — a bull regi- 
ment is 'camped on t'other side — put up the river so fur 
as > e kin." 

With a mutual " God bless ye," they parted. Bible 
made his way to the river, and narrowly inspected its 
banks, but no boat was to be seen ! He had spent two 
hours in the search, when he came to a bend in the stream 
which gave him an uninterrupted view of it for miles 
below. All along the river the air was alive with torches 
hurrying to and fro. He knew his pursuers would soon be 
upon him, and ejaculating a short prayer, in which he re- 
minded the Lord that the information he carried in his 
head was of '' no oncommon vallu, orter be got ter the 
giniral ter onst, an' wouldn't be uv no yerthly use" if he 
were hanged just then, he crept down to the water. 
Entangled in the underbrush just above him was a 
large log, the estray property of some up-country sawyer. 
Dropping himself into the water, he made his way to 
the log, and, laying down on it at full length, paddled 
out into the river. When he had reached the middle of 
the stream, he let himself drift down with the current, 
and in a short time was among his pursuers. A thou- 
sand torches blazing on either bank lit up the narrow 
river with a lurid glare, and made the smallest object 
on its surface distinctly visible. Knowing that if he 
kept his position he would certainly be seen, Bible rolled 
off into the water, turned over on his back, and, keeping 
one hand upon the log, floated along beside it. When 
he came opposite to the landing, he heard one cavalry- 
man say to another : 

*•' See ! tliar's a log ; moughtent the durned critter be 
onthet?" 



NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 189 

"No," replied the other; "thar's nothin' on it. Yer 
eyes is no better 'n moles." 

" Wall, I'll guv it a shot, anyhow," rejoined the first, 
and fired his carbine. The bullet glanced from the log, 
and struck the water a few feet from the scout. The 
one shot attracted others, and for a few minutes the balls 
•fell thickly around him, but he escaped unhurt ! The 
God to whom he had prayed shielded him, and brought 
him safely out of the hands of his enemies. In six days, 
after unparalleled hardships, he reached the Union lines. 
A few days before I left Murfreesboro, Bible started 
on another trip into the enemies' lines to establish a 
chain of spy stations up to Bragg's headquarters. He 
succeeded in the perilous enterprise, and, when I last 
heard of him, was pursuing his usual avocation, doing 
really more service to the country than many a star- 
shouldered gentleman who is talked of now in the news- 
papers, and may be read of centuries hence in history. 

If I have outlined his character distinctly, the reader 
has perceived that he is brave, simple-hearted, outspoken, 
hospitable, enterprising, industrious, loyal to liberty, 
earnest in his convictions — though ignorantly confound- 
ing names with things— a good husband and father, with 
a quiet humor which flavors character as Worcester 
sauce flavors a good dinner, a practical wisdom which 
" trusts in the Lord, but keeps its powder dry," some 
talent for bragging, and that intensity of nature and dis- 
position to magnify every thing (illustrated in his stories 
and conversation) which leads the Southerner to do noth> 
ing by halves, to throw his whole soul into whatever he 
undertakes, to be, like Jeremiah's figs, " if good, very 
good : if bad, not fit to feed the pigs." Though morally 



190 NARRATIVES OF SPIES, SCOUTS, AND DETECTIVES. 

and intellectually superior to the mass of" poor Southern 
whites," he is still a good representative of the class. 
They nearly all possess the same traits that he does, 
and differ from him only in degree, not in kind. That 
is saying little against them, for one might travel a 
whole summer's day in our Northern cities, and not 
meet many men who, in all that makes true manhood5 
are his equals. 



Three Soldiers Captured by a Boy with a Coffee- 
PoT. — An amusing instance of the value of a ready wit 
and presence of mind occurred during the advance of 
the Second Corps of Federal troops, near Hatcher's Run. 
A young lad in the Fourteenth Connecticut regiment, 
going with a coffee-pot to get water from the stream, 
suddenly found himself surrounded by three of the 
enemy. 

With all the fierceness of voice the little fellow could 
muster, he commanded them to throw down their arms 
and surrender. Supposing that the brave youth had 
companions near to enforce his command, they complied, 
when he seized one of their muskets and marched them 
into camp in great triumph. This story was related in 
his camp as the capture of three Johnnies with a coffee- 
pot. 



:p.a.i^t II. 



MRim ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN.. 






THE GREAT RAILROAD CHASE. 

The most remarkable and thrilling railroad adventure 
that ever occurred on the American continent, was that 
which happened to the twenty-two members of an ex- 
pedition sent out by the Union General 0. M. Mitchel, 
to destroy the communication on the Georgia State Rail- 
road, between Atlanta and Chattanooga. The expedi- 
tion itself, in the daring of its conception, possessed the 
wildness of a romance, and which, had it been success- 
ful, would have suddenly and completely changed the 
whole aspect of the war in the South and Southwest. 
It was as sublime in the results aimed at, as it was dar- 
ing in execution ; for it would have given full possession 
of all East Tennessee to the Union ,forces, which, moving 
then on Lynchburg, would have had the valley of Vir- 
ginia at their mercy, and could have attacked Stonewall 
Jackson in the rear. In addition to this advantage, 
they would have held the railroad to Charlottesville and 
Orange Court House, as well as the South side railroad 
leading to Petersburg and Richmond; and thus, by 
uniting with McClellan's army, could have attacked the 
rebel General Joe Johnston's army, front and flank, 
driven him from Virginia^ and flanked Beauregard. 

(191) 



192 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

This admirable coup d'etat, the sa^^acity and importance 
of which challenged even the warmest admiration of the 
Confederates themselves, as being "the deepest laid 
scheme, and on the grandest scale, that ever emanated 
from the brains of any number of Yankees combined," 
was planned and set on foot in April, 1862, by Mr. J. 
J. Andrews, a citizen of Kentucky, who had boon pre- 
viously engaged in the secret service of the United 
States Government. The plan of operations which he 
proposed was to reach a point on the State road, where 
they could seize a locomotive and train of cars, and then 
dash back in the direction of Chattanooga, cutting the 
telegraph wires and burning the bridges behind them as 
they went, until they reached tlieii own lines. The 
party consisted of twenty-four men, who, with the ex- 
ception of its leader, Mr. Andrews, and another citizen 
of Kentucky, William Campbell by name — who volun- 
teered as substitute for a soldier — were selected from 
different companies of the Second, Twenty-first, and 
Twenty-third Ohio regiments, with particular reference 
to their known courage and discretion. These brave men 
were informed that the movement was to be a secret one, 
and doubtless comprehended something of its perils ; but 
Mr. Andrews and one^ther alone seem to have known any 
thing of its precise. direction and object. They all, how- 
ever, cheerfully and voluntarily engaged in it; and before 
starting, Andrews divided among them seven hundred 
dollars of Confederate scrip, informed them that they 
were now venturing upon important and dangerous duty, 
and threatened to shoot on the spot the first man that 
got drunk or flinched in the least. They then made 
their way through the lines in parties of two and three, 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 193 

in citizens' dress, and carrying only side arms, to Chatta- 
nooga, the point of rendezvous agreed upon, where 
twenty-two out of the twenty-four arrived safely. Here 
they took passage, without attracting attention, for 
Marietta, which place they reached at twelve o'clock on 
the night of the 11th of April. The next morning, be- 
fore daylight, they took the cars and went back on the 
same road to a place called Big Shanty, a regular stop- 
ping-place for refreshments, and where, within forty or 
fifty yards of the road, some twenty thousand Confeder- 
ate troops were encamped, it being a general rendezvous 
for recruits and the organization of regiments. The 
train upon Avhich the conspirators were, contained, also, 
a number of soldiers, as well as citizens, together with a 
quantity of provisions, and an iron safe containing a 
large amount of Confederate money, designed for the 
payment of the rebel troops at Corinth, Mississippi- 
Here, for the first time, they knew the nature of their 
duty, which was to destroy the track and bridges from 
Big Shanty, to and beyond Chattanooga, or as far as 
Bridgeport, Tennessee, This section of the road is built 
over innumerable creeks and rivers; and as General 
Mitchel had already cut off all communication from 
Corinth, by holding Huntsville, Alabama, the destruc- 
tion of bridges which they were expected to efiect, would 
have completely prevented rebel reinforcements and 
commissary stores from reaching Virginia, Tennessee, 
and Georgia. 

At Big Shant}^ therefore, the train stopped for break- 
fast, and passengers, conductor, engineer, and "hands," 
all went into the saloon, and were soon engaged in en- 
joying their matutinal meal. The conspirators were 

13 



194 DARING ENTERPRISES OF (OFFICERS AND MEN. 

prompt to seize the golden moment of opportunity now- 
offered to them. Leaving the cars, they quietly and 
naturally grouped together in squads of three and four, 
takin"- station with apparent carelessness on each side 
of the train, Andrews stationing himself at the coupling 
pin of the third car. A number of their party were 
engineers, and thoroughly understood the business in 
hand. One of these engineers was at his post, and 
found every thing right. All hands then quickly mounted 
the cars, although the guard was wathin three feet of 
them ; the word was given, Andrews drew the coupling 
pin and cried, ''All right!" The engineer opened the 
valve and put on all steam, and the train, now consist- 
ing of three box cars and the engine, moved quietly but 
swiftly off — leaving rebel conductor, engineer, passen- 
gers, spectators, and the soldiers in the camp near by, 
all lost in amazement, and dumbfounded at the strange, 
startling, and daring act. And now commenced the 
most exciting railroad race and chase, which it has ever 
fallen to the pen of historian to describe. They soon 
lost sight of the lights at Big Shanty station, and at the 
first curve the train was stopped just long enough to 
allow one of the party to climb the telegraph pole and 
cut the wires. Starting again, they pushed along — 
making stops here and there to tear up the track, and 
taking with them on the cars a few of the rails thus re- 
moved. But unforseen difficulty now^ began to meet 
them. According to the schedule of the road, of which 
Mr. Andrew^s had possessed himself, they should have 
met but a single train on that day, whereas they met 
three, two of which were engaged on extraordinary ser- 
vice, and they were compelled to switch off and let them 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 195 

pass. At the first station where this happened, the 
engineer of the road made his appearance, and was about 
to step on the engine, when Andrews told him he could 
not come on board, as this was an extra train running 
through to Corinth, and that his party were engaged to 
run it, and in support of his assertion the iron safe was 
shown. This apparently satisfied the engineer, and after 
taking in wood and water, the train again started. A 
second time they were compelled to switch off, and in 
order to get the switch-keys, Andrews, Avho knew the 
road well, went into the station and took them from the 
office. This caused considerable excitement, which he 
partly quieted by stating that the train contained gun-- 
powder for Beauregard, at Corinth. About an hour Avas 
lost in waiting to allow these trains to pass, which, of 
course, enabled their pursuers to press closely after them. 
But they pushed on as rapidly as possible, removing 
rails, throwing out obstructions along the track, and 
cutting the telegraph lines from time to time — attaining, 
when in motion, a speed of sixty miles per hour — but 
they could not regain the time which they had lost. 
Reaching a bridge about twenty miles south of Dalton, 
Georgia, they set fire to one of their cars, piled on wood, 
and left it on the bridge, to which they thus hoped to 
set fire. 

Now, let us return to the rebel engineer, conductor, 
and passengers, thus unceremoniously left at Big Shanty, 
by the amazing and sudden disappearance of the engine 
and part of the train. The party who had thus stolen 
the march upon them, had evidently done so at that 
time and place, with the presumption that pursuit could 
not be made by an engine short of Kingston, some thirty 



19C DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

miles above Big Shanty ; and that, by cutting the tele- 
graph wires as they proceeded, they should gain at least 
three or four hours' start of any pursuit which could be 
made. This Avas a legitinuito and reasonable conclusion, 
and but for the energy and quick judgment of Mr. Fuller, 
the conductor, and Mr. Cain, the engineer of the stolen 
train, and of Mr. Anthony Murphy, foreman of the 
Wood Department of the State road, who accidentally 
happened on the train that morning, the plans of Mr. 
Andrews and his party would have resulted as origin- 
ally contemplated, and with crushing disaster to the 
rebel cause. 

But these three determined men, without a moment's 
delay, put out after the flying train on foot, amidst 
shouts of laughter from the crowd, who, though lost in 
amazement at the unexpected and daring act, could not 
repress their merriment at seeing three men starting on 
foot after a train which had just whirled away from before 
their eyes, under the highest power of steam. But Messrs. 
Fuller, Cain, and Murphy, nowise daunted by the disparity 
of motive power, put on all their speed and ran along the 
■track for three miles, until they came up with some track 
raisers who had a small truck car, which is shoved along 
by men so employed on railroads, on which to carry their 
tools. Truck and men were at once "impressed," and 
they took it by turns of two at a time to run behind the 
truck and push it along all up-grades and level portions 
of the road, and let it drive at will on all the down- 
grades. Beaching the spot where the runaways had cut 
the telegraph wires and torn up the track, they found 
themselves suddenly tumbled out, pell-mell, truck and 
men, upon the side of the road. Finding, however, that 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 197 

" nobody was hurt on our side," the plucky " rebs " put 
the truck again on the track, left some hands to repair 
the road, and with all the power of determined will and 
muscle, they pushed on to Etowah station, some thirty 
miles above. Here, the first thing that met their sight 
was the " Yonah," an old coal engine, one of the first 
ever used on the State road, standing already " fired up." 
This venerable locomotive was immediately turned 
upon the track, and like an old racer at the tap of the 
drum, pricked up her ears and made fine time to Kings- 
ton. There they found themselves but twenty minutes 
behind the runaway train ; and leaving the ''Yonah" 
to blow off, they mounted the engine of the Rine Branch 
road, which was ready fired up, and waiting for the 
arrival of the passenger train nearly due. Plere a num- 
ber of persons volunteered for the chase, taking such 
arms as they could lay their hands on at the moment, 
and with the fresh engine they !-tarted for Adams ville. 
But a little before reaching that place the}^ found tlio 
train at a standstill, in consequence of the destruction 
of a portion of the road by the Yankee runaways. This 
was vexatious, but it did not discourage Fuller and 
Murphy, who left the engine and once more jDut out on 
foot, alone. After two miles running, they met the 
down freight train from Adamsville — reversed and ran 
it backward to that place, switched off the cars on a 
side track, and with the engine made fine time to 
Calhoun, where they met the regular down passenger 
train. Here they made a momentary halt, took on 
board a number of well armed volunteers, a company of 
track hands to repair the track as they went along, and 
ft telegraph operator, and continued the chase. A short 



108 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

distance above Calhoun they saw, lor the lirst time, tho 
runaway train ahead of thcni. The '" Yanks," supposing 
themselves now well out of danger, were quietly oiling 
the engine, taking up track, etc., but finding themselves 
discovered, they mounted and sped away, throwing out 
upon the track, as they tied, the heavy cross-ties with 
which they had provided themselves ; which was done 
by breaking out the end of the hindmost box car, and 
pitching them out. The rails which they had last taken 
up they now carried off with them, but their rebel 
pursuers, on coming to where the rails were torn up, 
stopped, tore up the rails behind them and laid them 
down, without fastening, before the engine, which ran 
over them cautiously but safely; and then carefully 
throwing off from the track the cross-ties which had 
been thrown there to impede their progress, pushed on 
after the fugitives. Now the race became terrible in its 
intensity. ''Nip and tuck" the two trains swept with 
feaiful speed past Resaca, Tilton, and on through 
Dal ton, where the rebel train stopped to put off the tele- 
graph operator, with instructions to telegraph to Chatta- 
nooga to have them stoj^ped there, in case he should 
fail to overhaul them. On and on, fiist and still faster 
the rebel train pressed with hot speed, sometimes in 
sight, as much to prevent their cutting the wires be- 
fore the message could be sent, as to catch them. The 
daring Yankees indeed stopped just opposite, and very 
near to the encampment of a rebel regiment, and cut the 
wires, but the operator who had been dropped at Dalton 
had ^>Mf the message thromjh about two minutes before. 
They also again tore up the track, cut down a telegraph 
pole, and placed the two ends of it under the cross-ties, 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 199 

and the middle over the rail on the track. Their pur- 
suers, however, got over this impediment in the same 
manner they did before — taking up rails behind and 
laying them down before. Once over this, they shot 
through the great tunnel at Tunnel Hill, onhj Jive 
minut&s heliind the adventurous '' Feds," who, finding 
themselves closely pressed, uncoupled two of the box- 
cars from their engine, hoping to impede the progress of 
their pursuers. Quick-witted Fuller, however, hastily 
coupled them to the front of his engine, and pushed them 
ahead of him to the first turn-out, where he switched 
them ofi" out of his way, and dashed ahead. As they 
passed Ringgold, the runaways began to show signs of 
"giving out." They were out of wood, water, and oil; 
their rapid running and inattention to the engine had 
melted all the brass from its journals; and they had no 
time for repair, so rapid was the pursuit. Nearer and 
nearer panted the iron steed behind them, until, when 
it was within four hundred yards of them, seeing that 
their only safety was in flight, they jumped from the 
engine, scattering in the thicket, each for himself. And 
now their troubles commenced. The whole country 
immediately swarmed with armed pursuers. Unac- 
quainted with the country, they lost their way, were 
hunted down by mounted men and bloodhounds, and 
finally were all captured. Their plan had failed from 
causes which reflected neither upon the genius by which 
it was planned, nor upon the intrepidity and discretion 
of those engaged in it, but from a combination of unfore- 
seen circumstances. It was a plan which the rebels 
themselves declared to have been '' entirely practicable 
on almost any day for the last year," but they did not 



200 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

expect to meet two " extraordinary" or special trains on 
the road ; they did not expect that any men would be 
so apparently foolhardy as to attempt their pursuit on 
foot; and they did not expect that their pursuers would 
find any such "God-send" as the old coal engine, 
** Yonah," standing on the track, ready fired up. Their 
calculations on every other point were admitted by their 
enemies, and those best acquainted with the road and 
its arrangements, to have been " dead certainties," which 
would have met with perfect success. 

It might have been hoped that the signal bravery of 
such an exploit would have commanded the respect of 
their captors, and mitigated in some degree the resent- 
ment which such an attempt excited. But it was 
not so. 

The twenty-two captives, when secured, were thrust 
into the negro jail at Chattanooga. There they occu- 
pied a single room, half under ground, and but thirteen 
feet square, so that there was not space enough for 
them all to lie down together, and a part of them were, 
in consequence, obliged to sleep sitting and leaning 
against the walls. The only entrance to this vile room 
was through a traj) door in the ceiling, through which, 
twice a day, their scant}^ meals were lowered in a 
bucket; and they had no other light or ventilation than 
that which came through two small, triple grated win- 
dows. They were covered with swarming vermin, and 
the oppressiveness of the heat obliged them to strip 
themselves entirely naked. Added to this, they were all 
handcuffed, and fastened to each other in companies of 
twos and threes, by trail chains, secured with padlocks 
around their necks. Their food, doled out to them 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 201 

twice a day, consisted of a little flour moistened with 
water, and baked in the form of bread, together with 
spoiled pickled beef. And, as their pockets had been 
rifled of whatever money they contained at the time of 
their capture, they were utterly without the means to pro- 
cure any better supplies from outside. Shortly after their 
capture, Jacob Parrot, an orphan boy, aged twenty 
years, belonging to the Thirty-third Regiment of Ohio 
Volunteers, was taken by a Confederate officer and four 
soldiers, who stripped him, bent him over a stone, and 
while two pistols were held to his head, a lieutenant 
in rebel uniform inflicted, with a raw hide, over a hun- 
dred lashes on his bare back. This was done in the 
presence of an infuriated crowd, who clamored for his 
death, and actually brought a rope with which to hang 
him. The object of this prolonged scourging was to 
force from him (the youngest of the the party) a confes- 
sion as to the objects of the expedition and the names 
of his comrades, especially that of the engineer who had 
run the train. Three times, in the course of this horri- 
ble flogging, it was suspended, and young Parrot was 
asked if he would confess ; but, steadily and firmly, 
with unswerving fidelity to the trusts of friendship and 
the inspirations of patriotism, he refused all disclosures, 
and it was not until his tormenters were weary of their 
cruel labor, that they abandoned the attempt. 

While thus imprisoned at Chattanooga, their leader, 
Mr. Andrews, was tried, condemned, and executed as a 
spy, at Atlanta, on the 7th of June. The remainder, 
although strong and healthy when they entered this 
prison, at the end of three weeks, when they were re- 
quired to leave it, were so exhausted by their confine- 



202 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

merit and treatment, as scarcely to be able to walk. 
Finally, twelve of their number were transferred to the 
prison at Knoxville, Tenn., and there seven of them 
were tried by court-martial as spies. Their trial, of 
course, was summary, and although permitted to be 
present, they were not allowed to hear either the argu- 
ment of their own counsel or of the judge-advocate. 
Their counsel, however, afterward visited them in prison, 
and read to them his argument, which was, in substance, 
that the fact of their being dressed in citizens' clothes 
was no more than what had been authorized in similar 
cases by the Confederate Government itself; that the 
object of the expedition was a purely military one, and 
as such lawful, according to the rules of war ; and that 
not having lingered about or visited any of the camps, 
obtaining or seeking information, they could not rightly 
be considered as spies. This just and unanswerable 
presentation of the case, appears to have produced a 
favorable impression, and the whole party soon after 
were removed to Atlanta, Ga., under the impression that 
those who had been tried had been acquitted. But, on 
the 18th of June, after their arrival at Atlanta, their 
prison door was opened, and, without warning, the death- 
sentence was read to the seven who had been tried at 
Knoxville, and who, little dreaming of their hapless 
fate, were even then engaged in whiling away the time 
by playing euchre. No time for preparation was allowed 
— they were bid to say farewell to their comrades, and 
'' be quick about it" — then were tied, carried out, and 
hung. One of their number, too ill to walk, was 
pinioned like the rest, and dragged off in this condition 
to the scaffold ; while two, whose weight broke tlie ropes 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 203 

which suspended them, were denied another hour's 
respite for prayer. One of their number, Alfred Wilson, 
of the Twenty-first Ohio, did not hesitate, while stand- 
ing under the gallows, to make a brief, manly, and 
patriotic address to the scowling mob who surrounded 
him. 

The remaining prisoners, now reduced to fourteen, 
were kept closely confined under special guard, in the 
Atlanta jail, until October, when, overhearing a conver- 
sation among their guards, they became convinced that 
they were to be hung, as their companions had been. 
This led them to devise a way of escape, which they 
carried out on the evening of the next day, by seizing 
the jailor when he opened the door to carry away the 
bucket in which their supper had been brought. Seizing 
and disarming the guards, eight of the fugitives were 
soon beyond pursuit. Of these, six, after long and pain- 
ful wanderings, succeeded in reaching the Union lines. 
Of the other two, nothing has ever been heard. The 
remaining six of the fourteen were recaptured and con- 
fined in the barracks until December, when they were 
removed to Richmond, where they were confined in 
Castle Thunder. There they shivered through the 
winter, without fire, thinly clad, and with but two small 
blankets, which they had saved wdth their clothes, to 
cover the whole party. So they remained until the 
early part of March, 1863, when they were exchanged; 
and thus, at the end of eleven months, terminated their 
pitiless sufferings and persecutions in the South — perse- 
cutions begun and continued amid indignities and suffer- 
ings on their part, and atrocities on the part of their 
captors, which illustrate, more fully than pen or words 



204 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

can ever express, the diabolical spirit of the rebellion, 
against which they and thousands of our brave Union 
soldiers have fought and suffered in every part of the 
South. 



The railroad lines along the border were the scenes 
of some startling adventures and narrow escapes, during 
the war. The following, very graphically told by a 
former engineer, has the merit also of truthfulness : 

THE WRONG SIDE OF THE CURVE. 

AN ex-engineer's STOllY. 

"Among the many incidents that during the late 
rebellion w^ere connected with that great national artery, 
the Baltimore and Ohio Railway, is one that I will 
relate. 

" In the fall of 1861, having been detained by business 
in the town of Cumberland, Maryland, I was at last 
about to start for Wheeling, when I learned by a de- 
spatch that the road was occupied below Harper's Ferry 
by a force of rebels, and therefore no train would pass. 

'' This proved to be true in reference to ordinary trains, 
but a ' special,' with which was the Hon. Mr. Pierpont, 
and a few other notabilities, had passed before the rebels 
cut the track, and was therefore approaching. On 
inquiry, I found that the engineer of the coming train 
had been one of my old chums, ere I had discarded 
engine-driving for more profitable business. My friend 

Joe M was a cool, bold, skilful engineer, and as 

generous as reckless of danger. 



^Im: 




DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 205 

" As I expected, I no sooner saw him and stated my 
wish to go up the road, than he swore that, special or 
no special, I should ride with him, if for nothing but to 
see the ' fast time" his engine, " Wildfire," would make. 

'' As we dashed rapidly along and were passing through 
Black Oak Bottom, a couple of ill-looking fellows in 
citizen's dress fired at the engineer, but doing no damage, 
merely provoked a laugh of derision from him for their 
want of marksmanship. On arriving at Oakland, Mary- 
land, we were disagreeably surprised by receiving a 
telegram, informing us that a party of rebels were mak- 
ing extraordinary haste to reach the railway at a point 
many miles ahead of us. Also they seemed to know 
who the special contained, and would therefore use all 
endeavors to capture or kill us. 

" There was but one car behind the engine, and in it 
was briefly discussed the question of go or stay, while 
Joe was having the tender refilled with wood and water. 

" Mr. Pierpont's business was too urgent to admit of 
any possible delay; two or three others concluded to risk 
the trip, and I — well, if it's not too egotistical to say so — 
I had run risks on railways too often to back out because 
there was danger ahead, while the rest concluded to stay 
and trust to luck for the opportunity of getting away. 

" Just as we were about to start, the fireman making 
a misstep on the ' running board,' fell and struck the 
ground with such force as to break his arm. Joe hur- 
riedly picked the poor fellow up, but tune was precious 
just then, so leaving him to the care of the gentlemen 
who had accompanied us, he started directly toward me, 
asking me to come and ' run ' for him, as, having no 
fireman, he would have more than he could do. I told 



206 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

him, however, to consider me his fireman for the rest of 
the trip, as he was best acquainted with the road ; so 
without any more ado, I doffed my coat, we jumped on, 
and away we went, past hamlets, through wildernesses 
of stunted bushes, up grade and down hill, at a speed 
rarely equalled. Our light train made firing an easy 
task for me, and I had frequent leisure to scan the 
beautiful ranges of the Alleghanies along which we 
skirted. Joe was sitting, as was usual with him, with 
his left hand on the throttle lever, and his body half out 
of the side window of the 'cab,' that he might the better 
scan the track ahead. 

"A few miles south of the famous Cheat river bridge, 
is a deep mountain gorge, with precipitous, rocky sides. 

"It is shaped like an hour-glass, wide at each end, 
but tapering each way toward the middle. The track 
runs for quite a distance along one side of the gorge, 
makes a very abrupt turn to cross the chasm, a very 
deep one, in a straight line, and then, still curving in- 
wardly, follows the gorge in a line nearly parallel with 
the track on the opposite side, for three fourths of a 
mile. 

" We were pitching along with that peculiar rocking, 
bounding motion, so different from the jar of ordinary 
fast speed. As we swept to the top of a grade, around 
the side of a hill that commanded a view of the gorge — 
Joe and I both on the lookout — we saw, at a moment's 
glance, enough to make us concentrate our thinking 
faculties, and act in a hurry, whatever was best to be 
done. 

'' There, on the straight track, just at the near edge 
of the gorge, a lot of men, in gray uniform, were hastily 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 207 

piling up some old ties, logs, etc., while at the point 
where the curve was sharpest — before reaching the 
gorge — were several more, tugging furiously at a rail, 
one end of which seemed to baffle them, as they pulled 
it outward. We were within a mile of them when we 
discovered them, and as each noticed them, the shout 
came simultaneously from both of us, ' The wrong side 
of the curve !' The ignorant fools were pulling out the 
inside rail, instead of the outside. In the latter case, 
nothing could have saved us from running off the track, 
and probably into the gorge. Our single brakesman, 
seeing the danger — I suppose from habit — was commenc- 
ing to tighten the brake, but at a look from Joe I sig- 
nalled 'off brakes,' Joe, meanwhile, opening the throttle 
to its widest extent, as we dashed down the grade at a 
positively frightful velocity. 

''As we neared them, a party of them huddled to- 
gether near the track. I seized a large stick of wood, 
intending, if possible, to hurt 'somebody.' We were 
going altogether too swift to fear their taking aim at us; 
and for that matter, I suppose they considered our de- 
struction such a certainty that firing at us would be 
needless. I was poising the big stick of wood, guessing 
at the rate of speed — I've had some practice throwing 
parcels from trains in motion — when Joe suddenly pulled 
the whistle-rope. The hoarse shriek seemed to startle 
them for an instant ; they huddled closer together, and 
I tossed the stick outward and downward. I had 
barely time to see it crash through the group with the 
force of a thunderbolt, when, with a jarring plunge, the 
wheels on one side struck the naked ties. That part of 
the trouble we had feared but little, as the impetus of 



208 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

the engine was almost sure to make it mount the track 
again. On the track again, but a few rods ahead of us, 
was the formidable barricade, and beyond that the yawn- 
ing chasm. Joe was standing up now, with eyes blaz- 
ing, still holding the throttle wide open, as he braced 
himself for the shock. I had grasped the brake rod of 
the tender the instant I threw the piece of wood. Crash 
— my hold didn't avail me, as I was pitched head over 
heels against the fire-box, and laid flat on my back on 
the footboard or floor of the engine. 

''Joe was as suddenly jerked half around, his back 
striking the little door in front of where he had stood, 
breaking the door and shivering the glass to atoms. But 
we were through ; how, Ave couldn't tell, except that we 
were still on the track, and thundering over the gorge. 
Joe's spirits rose with the occasion. Extricating himself 
almost as suddenly as he had been deposited in the little 
glass door, he jerked a tin flask from his pocket, sprung 
on top of the tender, and from thence to the roof of the 
cab. Steadying himself for a moment, with his face 
tow\ard the rebels, he shouted, 'good-by,' made them a 
low bow, and took a drink, perfectly regardless of the 
white puffs of smoke, as one after another discharged 
their pieces at him; as he afterward explained, 'the en- 
gine made too much noise for him to hear the bullets, 
and they didn't seem to be hitting anybody.' 

" After having, in spite of sore bones, performed a jig, 
which he had extemporized for that occasion for the ex- 
press edification of the ' rebs,' Joe descended from his 
perch and deliberately shutting off steam, stopped. 

" We were still in sight of them, though at a tolerably 
safe distance, and now saw a group of them standing 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 209 

near several men who had been wounded, perhaps some 
killed, by that 'irrepressible' stick of wood, 

" Our damages were a few bruises each, but no serious 
hurts. Our engine suffered the loss of the pilot, or cow- 
catcher, and head light ; the front of the smoke-box was 
stove in, besides sundry dents and bruises on the brass 
casings of the cylinders; but for running purposes was 
absolutely uninjured. The rebels having piled the logs 
squarely across the top of the track, the point of the 
cow-catcher had gone under them, and though broken 
by the shock, had raised them sufficiently to keep them 
from under the wheels, while the engine dashed them 
right and left into the gorge. 

'•' The rebels, seeing us stop, started in pursuit; but as 
we found nothing serious to impede our further progress, 
and, as in their case, ' distance lent enchantment to the 
view,' we were off again in high spirits, and without 
further adventure worth recounting, arrived safely at 
our destination. 

" Poor Joe, after being shot at so often as to have 
acquired a sovereign contempt for rebel bullets, was 
shot dead about a year ago, while running a government 
engine near Chattanooga." 

14 



210 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 



ZAGONYI'S CHARGE. 

The charge of Fremont's Body-Guard and the Prairie 
Scouts of Major Frank White, upon the rebel garrison 
in Springfield, Missouri, under the leadership of Major 
Charles Zagonyi, is justly regarded as one of the most 
daring and gallant achievements of the war. 

Charles Zagonyi was a Hungarian refugee who, like 
so many of his countrymen, had fled to this country 
after the suppression of the revolution in his native 
country by the iron hand of the Russian Czar. His 
daring character brought the young officer to the notice 
of the invincible General Bern, by whom he was placed 
in command of a troop of picked cavalry for extraordinary 
service. His story, after that hour, up to the date of 
his capture by the enemy, was one of unparalleled 
daring. His last act was to charge upon a heavy artillery 
force. Over one half of his men were killed and the 
rest made prisoners, but not until after the enemy had 
suffered terribly. He was then confined in an Austrian 
dungeon, and finally released, at the end of two years, 
to go into exile in America. 

Fremont drew around him a large number of such re- 
fugees from European tyranny, and found in them men 
of great value, in all departments of the service. 
Zagonyi enlisted three hundred carefully chosen men, 
who, as a " Body-Guard," served as pioneers and scouts 
in Fremont's advance. The exploit at- Springfield was 
only one of many similar services for which they were 
designated by Fremont; but, the suspension of his com- 
mand in Missouri broke up the Guard, and Zagonyi with- 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 211 

drew from the service until his leader should again be 
given a command. 

The Guard was mounted, and was armed with German 
sabres and revolvers — the first company only having 
carbines. The horses were all bay in color, and were 
chosen with special reference to speed and endurance. 

The expedition to Springfield was planned, as it after- 
ward appeared, upon false information. Instead of 
Springfield being held by a small force, it was in posses*- 
sion of twelve hundred infantry and four hundred cavalry. 
Major Frank White had been ordered by General Sigel 
to make a reconnoissance toward Springfield — the Union 
army then being at Camp Haskell, south of the Pom me 
de Terre river, thirty-four miles from Warsaw and fifty- 
one from Springfield. The major had just come in with 
his dashing " Prairie Scouts," one hundred and fifty-four 
strong, from their gallant dash into Lexington ; and the 
order to strike out for the reconnoissance found them 
jaded from over service. The major, however, put out, 
and was far on his way when, on the 24th (of October), 
he was joined by Zagonyi, who assumed command of the 
expedition, by order of Fremont. Zagonyi had with 
him one half of his Guard, provided with only one ration. 
The march to Springfield was to be forced, in order that 
the enemy should be surprised and the place secured 
before rebel reinforcements could reach it. The com- 
bined Scouts and Guard marched all Thursday (October 
24th) night ; briefly rested Friday morning, then pushed 
on and were before Springfield at three p. m. on the 25th 
■ — the fifty-one miles having been accomplished in eigh- 
teen hours. 

Eight miles from Springfield five mounted rebels were 



212 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

caught; a sixth escaped and gave the ahirm to the forces 
ill the town, whose strength, Zagon}d learned from a 
Union farmer, was fully two thousand strong. Nothing 
was left but a retreat or bold dash. Zagonyi did not 
hesitate. His men responded to his own spirit fully, 
and were eager for the adventure, let it result as it 
would. Major White was so ill from overwork that, at 
Zagonyi's entreaty, he remained at a farm-house for a 
brief rest. The Union farmer oifered to pilot the Body- 
Guard around to the Mount Vernon approach on the 
West — thus hoping to effect a surprise in that direction, 
as the enemy was, doubtless, aligned to receive the as- 
sault on the Boliver road, on the North. Of this detour 
White knew nothing, and after his rest he pushed on 
with his guard of live men and a lieutenant, to overtake 
his troops. He travelled up to the very outskirts of the 
town, and yet did not come up to his men. Supposing 
them in possession of the place, he kept on and soon 
found himself in a rebel camp — a prisoner. He was 
immediately surrounded by a crew of savages, who at 
once resolved to have his life. Captain Wroton, a rebel 
officer, only saved the Federal officer and his men from 
murder by swearing to protect them with his life. The 
blood thirst}- wretches were only kept at bay by the 
constant presence of Wroton. 

The particulars of the charge are given by Major 
Dorsheimer in his admirable papers on Fremont's Cam- 
paign, in the Atlantic Montlily : 

The foe were advised of the intended attack. When 
Major White was brought into their camp, they were 
preparing to defend their position. As appears from the 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 213 

confession of prisoners, they had twenty-two hundred 
men, of whom four hundred were cavalry, the rest being 
infmtry, armed with shot guns, American rifles, and 
revolvers. Twelve hundred of their foot were posted 
along the edge of the wood upon the crest of the hill. 
The cavalry was stationed upon the extreme left, on top 
of a spur of the hill, and in front of a patch of timber. 
Sharpshooters were concealed behind the trees close to 
the fence alongside the lane, and a small number in 
some underbrush near the foot of the hill. Another 
detachment guarded their train, holding possession of 
the county fair ground, which was surrounded by a high 
board fence. 

This position was unassailable by cavalry from the 
road, the only point of attack being down the lane on 
the right ; and the enemy were so disposed as to com- 
mand this approach perfectly. The lane was a blind 
one, being closed, after passing the brook, by fences and 
ploughed land : it was in fact a cul-de-sac. If the in- 
fantry should stand, nothing could save the rash assail- 
ants. There are horsemen sufficient to sweep the little 
band before them as helplessly as the withered forest- 
leaves in the grasp of the autumn winds ; there are dead- 
ly marksmen lying behind the trees upon the heights and 
lurking in the long grass upon the lowlands ; while a 
long line of foot stand upon the summit of the slope, 
who, only stepping a few paces back into the forest, may 
defy the boldest riders. Yet, down this narrow lane, lead- 
ing into the very jaws of death, came the three hundred. 

On the prairie, at the edge of the woodland in which 
he knew his wily foe lay hidden, Zagonyi halted his 
command. He spurred along the line. With eager 



214 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

glance he scanned each horse and rider. To his officers 
he gave the simple order, " Follow me ! do as I do !" 
and then, drawing up in front of his men, with a voice 
troniulous and shrill with emotion, he spoke: 

" Fellow-soldiers, comrades, brothers ! This is jour 
first battle. For our three hundred, the enemy are two 
thousand. If any of you are sick, or tired by the long 
•march, or if any think that the number is too great, 
now is the time to turn back." He paused — no one was 
sick or tired. ^' We must not retreat. Our honor, the 
honor of our general and our country, tell us to go on. 
I will lead you. We have been called holiday soldiers 
for the pavements of St. Louis ; to day we will show 
that we are soldiers for the battle. Your watchword 
•sliall be — ' The Union and Fremont f Draw sabre ! By 
ihe right flank — quick trot — march !' 

Bright swords flashed m the sunshine, a passionate 
«hout burst from every lip, and with one accord, the 
trot passing into a gallop, the compact column swept on 
in its deadly purpose. Most of them were boys. A 
few weeks before they had left their homes. Those 
who were cool enough to note it say that ruddy cheeks 
grew pale, and fiery eyes were dimmed with tears. 
Who shall tell what thoughts, what visions of peaceful 
cottages nestling among the groves of Kentucky, or 
shining upon the banks of the Ohio and the Illinois — 
what sad recollections of tearful fxrewells, of tender, 
loving faces, filled their minds during those fearful 
moments of suspense ? No word was spoken. With 
'lips compressed, firmly clenching their sword-hilts, with 
quick tramp of hoofs and clang of steel, honor leading 
nnd glory awaiting them, the young soldiers flew for- 



DARING EiVTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 21') 

ward, each brave rider and each straining steed mem- 
bers of one huge creature, enormous, terrible, irresis- 
tible. 

" ' Twere worth ten years of peaceful life, 
One glance at their array." 

They pass the fair ground. They are at the corner 
of the lane where the wood begins. It runs close to 
the fence on their left for a hundred yards, and beyond 
it they see white tents gleaming. They are half way 
past the forest, when, sharp and loud, a volley of 
musketry bursts upon the head of the column ; horses 
stagger, riders reel and fall, but the troop presses for- 
ward undismayed. The farther corner of the wood 
is reached, and Zagonyi beholds the terrible array. 
Amazed, he involuntarily checks his horse. The rebels 
are not surprised. There to his left they stand crown- 
ing the height, foot and horse ready to engulph him, if 
he shall be rash enough to go on. The road he is fol- 
lowing declines rapidly. There is but one thing to do 
— run the gauntlet, gain the cover of the hill, and charge 
up the steep. These thoughts pass quicker than they 
can be told. He waves his sabre over his head, and 
shouting, '' Forward ! follow me ! quick trot ! gallop !" 
he dashes headlong down the stony road. The first 
company, and most of the second follow. From the 
left a thousand muzzles belch forth a hissing flood of 
bullets ; the poor fellows clutch wildly at the air and 
fall from their saddles, and maddened horses throw 
themselves against the fences. Their speed is not for 
an instant checked ; farther down the hill they fly, like 
wasps driven by the leaden storm. Sharp volleys pour 



21 G DARING ENTERPRISES OF OKFICERS AND MEN. 

out of the underbrush at the left, clearing wide gaps 
through their ranks. They leap the brook, take down 
the fence, and draw up* under shelter of the hill. 
Zagonyi looks around him, and to his horror sees that 
only a fourth of liis men are with him. He cries, 
" They do not come — we are lost !" and frantically 
waves his sabre. 

He has not long to wait. The delay of the rest of the 
Guard was not from hesitation. When Captain Foley 
reached the lower corner of the wood and saw the 
enemy's lines, he thought a flank attack might be ad- 
vantageously made. He ordered some men to dismount 
and take down the fence. This was done under a 
severe fire. Several men fell, and he found the woods 
so dense that it could not be penetrated. Looking 
down the hill, he saw the flash of Zagonyi's sabre, and 
at once gave the order, " Forward !" At the same time. 
Lieutenant Kennedy, a stalwart Kentuckian, shouted, 
"Come on, boys ! remember Old Kentucky!" and the 
third company of the Guard — fire on every side of them 
— from behind trees, from under the fences — with thun- 
dering strides and loud cheers — poured down the slope 
and rushed to the side of Zagonyi. They have lost 
seventy dead and wounded men, and the carcasses of 
horses are strewn along the lane. Kennedy is wounded 
in the arm, and lies upon the stones, his faithful 
charger standing motionless beside him. Lieutenant 
Goff received a wound in the thigh ; he kept his seat, 
and cried out, "The devils have hit me, but I will give 
it to them yet !" 

The remnant of the Guard are now in the field under 
the hill, and from the shape of the ground the rebel fire 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 217 

sweeps with the roar of a whirlwind over their heads. 
Here we will leave them for a moment, and trace the 
fortunes of the Prairie Scouts. 

When Foley brought his troop to a halt, Captain 
Fairbanks, at the head of the first company of Scouts, 
was at the point where the first volley of musketry had 
been received. The narrow lane was crowded by a 
dense mass of struggling horses, and filled with the 
tumult of battle. Captain Fairbanks says, and he is 
corroborated by several of his men who were near, that 
at this moment an officer of the Guard rode up to him 
and said, " They are flying ; take your men down that 
lane and cut off their retreat" — pointing to the lane at 
the left. Captain Fairbanks was not able to identify 
the person who gave this order. It certainly did not 
come from Zagonyi, who was several hundred yards 
farther on. Captain Fairbanks executed the order, fol- 
lowed by the second company of Prairie Scouts, under 
Captain Kehoe, When this movement was made. Cap- 
tain Naughton, with the Third Irish dragoons, had not 
reached the corner of the lane. He came up at a 
gallop, and was about to follow Fairbanks, when he saw 
a Guardsman, who pointed in the direction in which 
Zagonyi had gone. He took this for an order, and 
obeyed it. When he reached the gap in the fence, 
made by Foley, not seeing any thing of the Guard, he 
supposed they had passed through at that place, and 
gallantly attempted to follow. Thirteen men fell in a 
few minutes. He was shot in the arm and dismounted. 
Lieutenant Connolly spurred into the underbrush, and 
received two balls through the lungs and one in the 
left shoulder. The dragoons, at the outset not more 



218 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

than fifty strong, were broken, and, dispirited by the 
loss of their officers, retired. A sergeant rallied a few 
and brought them up to the gap again, and they were 
again driven back. Five of the boldest passed down 
the hill, joined Zagonyi, and were conspicuous for their 
valor during the rest of the day. Fairbanks and Kehoe, 
having gained the rear and left of the enemy's position, 
made two or three assaults upon detached parties of the 
foe, but did not join in the main attack. 

I now return to the Guard. It is formins; under 
the shelter of the hill. In front, with a gentle incli- 
nation, rises a grassy slope, broken by occasional tree- 
stumps. A line of fire upon the summit marks the 
position of the rebel infantry, and nearer and on the 
top of a lower eminence to the right stand their horse. 
Up to this time no Guardsman has struck a blow, but 
blue coats and bay horses lie thick along the bloody 
lane. Their time has come. Lieutenant Maythenyi 
with thirty men is ordered to attack the cavalry. With 
sabres flashing over their hea.ds, the little band of 
hieroes spring toward their tremendous foe. Right upon 
the centre they charge. The dense mass opens, the 
blue coats force their way in, and the whole rebel squad- 
ron scatter in disgraceful flight through the cornfields in 
the rear. The boys follow them sabering the fugitives. 
Days after, the enemy's horses lay thick among the un- 
cut corn. 

Zagonyi holds his main body until Maythenyi disap- 
pears in the cloud of rebel cavalry ; then his voice 
rises through the air : " In open order — charge !" The 
line opens out to give play to their sword-arm. Steeds 
respond to the ardor of their riders, and quick as thought, 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 219 

with thrilling cheers, the noble hearts rush into the 
leaden torrent which pours down the incline. With un- 
abated fire the gallant fellows press through. Their 
fierce onset is not even checked. The foe do not wait 
for them — they waver, break, and fly. The Guards- 
men spur into the midst of the rout, and their fast- 
falling swords work a terrible revenge. Some of the 
boldest of the Southrons retreat into the woods, and 
continue a murderous fire from behind trees and thickets. 
Seven Guard horses fill upon a space not more than 
twenty feet square. As his steed sinks under him, one 
of the officers is caught around the shoulders by a grape- 
vine, and hangs dangling in the air until he is cut down 
by his friends. 

The rebel foot are flying in furious haste from the 
field. Some take refuge in the fair ground, some hurry 
into the cornfields, but the greater part run along the 
edge of the wood, swarm over the fence into the road, 
and hasten to the village. The Guardsmen follow. 
Zagonyi leads them. Over the loudest roar of battle 
rings his clarion voice — ''Come on. Old Kentuck ! I'm 
with you !" And the flash of his sword-blade tells his 
men where to go. As he approaches a barn, a man 
steps from behind a door and lowers his rifle ; bat before 
it has reached a level, Zagonyi's sabre-point descends 
upon his head, and his life-blood leaps to the very top 
of the huge barn-door. 

The conflict now raged through the village — in the 
public square, and along the streets. Up and down the 
Guards ride in squads of three or four, and wherever 
they see a group of the enemy, charge upon and 



220 DARIXG ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

scatter them. It is hand to hand. No one but has a 
share in the fray. 

There was at least one soldier in the Southern ranks. 
A young officer, superbly mounted, charges alone upon 
a large body of the Guard. He passes through the line 
unscathed, killing one man. He wheels, charges back, 
and again breaks through, killing another man. A 
tjiird time he rushes upon the Federal line, a score of 
sabre-points confront him, a cloud of bullets fly around 
him, but he pushes on until he reaches Zagonyi — he 
presses his pistol so close to the major's side, that he 
feels it, and draws convulsively back, the bullet passes 
through the front of Zagonyi's coat, who at the instant 
runs the daring rebel through the body; he falls, and 
the men, thinking their commander hurt, kill him with 
a dozen wounds. 

"He was a brave man," said Zagonyi afterward, 
" and I did wish to make him prisoner." 

Meanwhile it has grown dark. The foe have left the 
village, and the battle has ceased. The assembly is 
sounded, and the Guard gathers in the Plaza. Not 
more than eighty mounted men appear : the rest are 
killed, wounded, or unhorsed. At this time one of the 
most characteristic incidents of the affair took place. 

Just before the charge, Zagonyi directed one of his 
buglers, a Frenchman, to sound a signal. The bugler 
did not seem to pay any attention to the order, but 
darted off with Lieutenant Maythenyi. A few moments 
afterward he was observed in another part of the field 
vigorously pursuing the flying infantry. His active 
form was always seen in the thickest of the fight. When 
the line was formed in the Plaza, Zagonyi noticed the 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 221 

bugler, and approaching him, said : " In the midst of 
battle you disobeyed my order. You are unworthy to 
be a member of the Guard. I dismiss you." The bugler 
showed his bugle to his indignant commander — the 
mouth-piece of the instrument was shot away. He 
said : " The mouth was shoot off. I could not bugle 
viz mon bugle, and so I bugle viz mon pistol and 
sabre." It is unnecessary to add, the brave Frenchman 
was not dismissed. 

I must not forget to mention Sergeant Hunter, of the 
Kentucky company. His soldierly figure never failed 
to attract the eye in the ranks of the Guard. He had 
served in the regular cavalry, and the Body-Guard had 
profited greatly from his skill as a drill master. He 
lost tliree horses in the fight. As soon as one was 
killed, he caught another from the rebels : the third 
horse taken by him in this way he rode into St. Louis. 

The sergeant slew five men. '' I wont speak of those 
I shot," said he — " another may have hit them ; but 
those I touched with my sabre I am sure of, because 1 
ielt them." 

At the beginning of the charge, he came to the 
extreme right, and took position next to Zagonyi, whom 
he followed closely through the battle. The major see- 
ing him, said : 

" Why are you here. Sergeant Hunter? Your place 
is with your company on the left." 

*' I kind o' wanted to be in the front,'' was the 
answer. 

" What could I say to such a man ?" exclaimed, 
Zagonyi, speaking of the matter afterward. 

There was hardly a horse or rider among the sur- 



222 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

vivors that did not bring away some mark of the fray. 
I saw one animal with no less than seven wounds — 
none of them serious. Scabbards were bent, clothes and 
caps pierced, pistols injured. I saw one pistol from 
which the sight had been cut as neatly as it could have 
been done by machinery. A piece of board a few inches 
long was cut from a fence on the field, in which there 
were thirty-one shot holes. 

It was now nine o'clock. The wounded had been 
carried to the hospital. The dismounted troopers were 
placed in charge of them — in the double capacity of 
nurses and guards. Zagonyi expected the foe to return 
every minute. It seemed like madness to try and 
hold the town with his small force, exhausted by the 
long march and desperate fight. He therefore left 
Springfield, and retired before morning twenty-five miles 
on the Bolivar road. 

Captain Fairbanks did not see his commander after 
leaving the column in the lane, at the commencement 
of the engagement. About dusk he repaired to the 
prairie, and remained there within a mile of the village 
until midnight, when he followed Zagon^d, rejoining 
him in the morning. 

I will now return to Major White. During the con- 
flict upon the hill, he was in the forest near the front 
of the rebel line. Here his horse was shot under him. 
Captain Wroton kept careful watch over him. AVhen 
the flight began he hurried White away, and, accom- 
panied by a squad of eleven men, took him ten miles 
into the country. They stopped at a farm-house for the 
night. AVhite discovered that their host was a Union 
man. His parole having expired, he took advantage of 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 223 

the momontary absence of his captor to speak to the 
falrmcr, telling him who he was, and asking him to send 
for assistance. The countryman mounted his son upon 
his swiftest horse, and sent him for succor. The party 
lay down by the fire, White being placed in the midst. 
The rebels were soon asleep, but there was no sleep for 
the major. He listened anxiously for the footsteps of 
his rescuers. After long weary hours, he heard the 
tramp of horses. He arose, and walking on tiptoe, cau- 
tiously stepping over his sleeping guard, he reached the 
door and silently unfastened it. The Union men rushed 
into the room and took the astonished Wroton and his 
followers prisoners. At daybreak White rode into Spring- 
field at the head of his captives and a motley band of 
Home Guards, He found the Federals still in possession 
of the place. As the officer of highest rank, he took 
command. His garrison consisted of twenty-four men. 
He stationed twenty-two of them as pickets in the out- 
skirts of the village, and held the other two as a reserve. 
At noon the enemy sent a flag of truce, and asked per- 
mission to bury their dead. Major White received the 
flag with proper ceremony, but said that General Sigel 
was in command and the request would have to be re- 
ferred to him. Sigel was then forty miles away. In a 
short time a written communication purporting to come 
from General Sigel arrived, saying that the rebels might 
send a party under certain restrictions to bury their 
dead : White drew in some of his pickets, stationed them 
about the field, and under their surveillance the Southern 
dead were buried. 

The loss of the enemy, as reported by some of their 
working party, was one hundred and sixteen killed. 



224 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

The number of wounded could not be ascertained. After 
the conflict had drifted away from the hill-side, some of 
the foe had returned to the field, taken away their woun- 
ded and robbed our dead. The loss of the Guard was 
fifty-three out of one hundred and forty-eight actually 
engaged, twelve men having been left by Zagonyi in 
charge of his train. The Prairie Scouts reported a loss 
of thirty-one out of one hundred and thirty : half of 
these belonged to the Irish Dragoons. In a neighboring 
field an Irishman was found stark and stiff", still cling- 
ing to the hilt of his sword, which was thrust through 
the body of a rebel who lay beside him. Within a few 
feet a second rebel lay shot through the head. 



THE PASSAGE OF THE PORT HUDSON BATTERIES. 

The rebels had blockaded the Mississippi from the 
beginning of the war with their batteries. In the pro- 
gress of the war Farragut had captured the batteries 
below New Orleans, and above as far as Prophet's 
Island, just below Port Hudson, and Foote, Davis, and 
Porter had made a conquest of the batteries above 
Vicksburg, leaving only the Vicksburg, Warrenton, and 
Port Hudson batteries — a distance of two hundred and 
thirty-two miles by the river. Of these, the batteries at 
Port Hudson were, with the exception of those at 
Vicksburg, the most formidable on the river. 

The bluff*, rising forty feet above the level of the 
river, was covered with forts for a distance of nearly 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 225 

four miles, constructed upon the most scientific princi- 
)les of modern military art, and armed with the most 
approved and L ■■aviest ordnance which England, seeking 
the ruin of the r<. public, could furnish the rebels. The 
river, just at the bend, suddenly narrows, and the cur- 
rent, striking upon the west bank, is thrown across, 
running with great velocity, and carrying the channel 
almost directly under the base of the precipitous cliffs. 
Any vessel attempting the passage would be compelled 
to run the gauntlet of a plunging fire from battories 
which commanded the range for several miles above and 
below. 

It was proposed, in order that the fleet might be able 
to co-operate with General Grant in the siege of Vicks- 
burg, to attack Port Hudson, and, under the fire of the 
bombardment, to attempt to force a passage by several 
of our gunboats up the river. 

To Rear-Admiral Farragut, already renowned for his 
naval victory at Forts St. Philip and Jackson, was 
assigned the work of attacking and passing this formid- 
able river fortress. The fleet consisted of the flag-ship 
" Hartford," a fine sloop-of-war, carrying twenty-six 
guns; the '' Richmond," a vessel of the same class and 
armament; the side-wheel steamship " Mississippi," with 
twenty-two eight and nine inch guns ; the " Mononga- 
hela," a smaller steam sloop-of-war, with sixteen heavy 
guns; and the gunboats "Kineo," ''Albatross," ''Sachem," 
and " Genesee," each carrying three columbiads, and 
two rifled thirtj'-two pounders, together with six mortar 
boats, intended to assist in the bombardment, but not 
to attempt the passage of the batteries. 

On the morning of the 14th of April, the squadron 

15 



226 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

having ascended the river from New Orleans, anchored 
off Prophet's Island, and the mortar boats took their 
position, and early in the afternoon commenced a 
vigorous bombardment of the rebel works. At half-past 
nine o'clock in the evening, a red light from the flag- 
ship signaled the ships and gunboats to weigh anchor. 
The " Hartford" led, the ''Albatross" being lashed on 
her starboard side ; the " Richmond" followed, having 
the ''Genesee" lashed to her; next came the " Monon- 
gahela" and the " Kineo," while the " Mississippi" and 
the " Sachem" brought up the rear. The mortar boats, 
from their sheltered anchorage, were prepared to renew 
their bombardment with marked effect so soon as it 
should be necessary. 

Signal lights were flashing along the rebel batteries, 
showing that they were awake to the movements of the 
Union squadron. Soon the gleam of a fire kindled by 
the rebels was seen, which blazed higher and more bril- 
liant till its flashes illumined the whole river opposite 
the batteries with the light of day. This immense bon- 
fire was directly in front of the most formidable of the 
fortifications, and every vessel ascending the stream 
would be compelled to pass in the full blaze of its light, 
exposed to the concentrated fire of the heaviest ord- 
nance. Still it was hoped, notwithstanding the desper- 
ate nature of the enterprise, that a few at least of the 
vessels of the squadron would be able to ejQfect a 
passage. 

Silently in the darkness the boats steamed along, 
until a rebel field-piece, buried in the foliage of the 
shore, opened fire upon the "Hartford." The challenge 
thus given was promptly accepted, and a broadside 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 227 

volley was returned upon the unseen foe. The rebel 
batteries, protected by strong redoubts, extended, as we 
have mentioned, with small intervening spaces,* a dis- 
tance of nearly four miles, often rising in tier above tier 
on the ascending bluff. Battery after battery immedi- 
ately opened its fire ; the hill-sides seemed peopled with 
demons hurling their thunderbolts, while the earth 
trembled beneath the incessant and terrific explosions. 
And now the mortar boats uttered their awful roar, add- 
ing to the inconceivable sublimity of the scene. An 
eye-witness thus describes the appearance of the mam- 
moth shells rising and descending in their majestic 
curve : 

" Never shall I forget the sight that then met my 
astonished vision. Shooting upward, at an angle of 
forty-five degrees, with the rapidity of lightning, small 
globes of golden flame were seen sailing through the 
pure ether — not a steady, unfading flame, but coruscat- 
ing like the fitful gleam of a fire-fly, now visible and 
anon invisible. Like a flying star of the sixth magni- 
tude the terrible missile — a thirteen-inch shell — nears 
its zenith, up and still up, higher and higher. Its flight 
now becomes much slower, till, on reaching its utmost 
altitude, its centrifugal force becoming counteracted by 
the earth's attraction, it describes a parabolic curve, and 
down, down it comes, bursting, it may be, ere it reaches 
terra firma, but probably alighting in the rebel works 
ere it explodes, where it scatters death and destruction 
around." 

The air was breathing gently from the east, and dense 
volumes of billowy smoke hung over the river, drifting 
slowly across in clouds which the eye could not pene- 



228 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

trate, and adding greatlj to the gloom and sublimity 
of the scene. It strains a ship too much to fire all the 
guns ^simultaneously. The broadsides were, conse- 
quently, g^enerally discharged by commencing with the 
forward gun, and firing each one in its turn in the most 
rapid manner possible — as fast as the ticking of a clock. 
The effect of this bombardment, from ship and shore, as 
described by all who witnessed it, was grand and terrific 
in the extreme. From the innumerable batteries, very 
skilfully manned, shot and shell fell upon the ships like 
hail. Piercing the awful roar, which filled the air as 
with the voice of ten thousand thunders, w^as heard the 
demoniac shrieks of the shells*, as if all the demons of 
the pit had broken loose, and were revelling in hideous 
rage through the darkness and the storm. 

In the midst of this scene of terror, conflagration, and 
death, as the ships were struggling through the fire 
against the swift current of the Mississippi, there was 
heard from the deck of the '' Richmond," coming up 
frdtei the dark, rushing stream, the cry of a drowning 
man. " Help ! oh, help !" The unhappy sufferer had 
evidently fallen from the '' Hartford," which was in 
advance. In such an hour there could not be even an 
attempt made to rescue him. Again and again the 
agonizing cry pierced the air, the voice growing fainter 
and fainter as the victim floated away in the distance, 
until he sank beneath the turbid waves. 

The whole arena of action, on the land and on the 
water, was soon enveloped in a sulphurous canopy of 
smoke, pierced incessantly by the vivid flashes of the 
guns. The vessels could no longer discern each other 
or the hostile batteries on the shore. It became very 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 229 

difficult to know how to steer ; and as in the impenetra- 
ble gloom the only object at which they could aim was 
the flash of the guns, the danger became imminetit that 
they might fire into each other. This gave the rebels 
great advantage ; for with their stationary guns trained 
upon the river, though they fired into dense darkness, 
they could hardly fire amiss. Occasionally a gust of 
wind would sweep away the smoke, slightly reveal- 
ing the scene in the light of the great bonfire on the 
bluff. Again the black, stifling canopy would settle 
down, and all was Egyptian darkness. 

At one time, just as the " Richmond" was prepared 
to pour a deadly fire into a supposed battery, whose 
flash the gunners had just perceived. Lieutenant Terry 
shouted out, "Hold on, you are firing into the 'Hart- 
ford !' " Another quarter of a minute and they would 
have been pouring a destructive broadside into the flag- 
ship which could scarcely have failed to sink her. 

A shell from a rebel battery entered the starboard 
port of the '' Richmond," and burst with a terrific ex- 
plosion directly under the gun. One fragment splin- 
tered the gun-carriage. Another made a deep indenta- 
tion in the gun itself. Two other fragments struck the 
unfortunate boatswain's mate, cutting off both legs at 
the knee, and one arm at the elbow. He soon died, 
with his last breath saying, '' Don't give up the ship, 
lads !" The whole ship reeled under the concussion as 
if tossed by an earthquake. 

The river at Port Hudson, as we have mentioned, makes 
a majestic curve. Rebel cannon were planted along the 
concave brow of the crescent-shaped bluffs of the eastern 
shore, Avhile beneath the bluff, near the water's edge, 



230 J)ARING ENTERPRISES OF OFp-'ICERS AND .VrX. 

there ^vas another series of what were called water bat- 
teries lining the bank. As the ships entered this curve, 
following the channel which swept close to the eastern 
shore, they Avere, one after the other, exposed to the 
most terrible enfilading fire from all the batteries follow- 
ing the line of the curve. This was the most desperate 
point of the conflict; for here it was almost liternlly 
fighting muzzle to muzzle. The rebels discharged an 
incessant cross-fire of grape and canister, to which 
the heroic squadron replied with double-shotted guns. 
Never did ships pass a more fierj^ ordeal. 

Lieutenant-Commander Cummings, the executive oflfi- 
cer of the ''Richmond," was standing with his speaking- 
trumpet in his hand cheering the men, with Captain 
Alden by his side, when there was a simultaneous flash 
and roar, and a storm of shot came crashing through the 
bulwarks from a rebel battery, which they could almost 
touch with their ramrods. Both of the officers fell as if 
struck by lightning. The captain was simply knocked 
down by the windage, and escaped unharmed. The 
speaking-trumpet in Commander Cummings' hand was 
battered flat, and his left leg was torn off just below the 
knee. 

As he fell heavily upon the deck, in his gushing blood, 
he exclaimed : 

'^ Put a tourniquet on my leg, boys. Send my letters 
to my wife. Tell her that I fell in doing my duty !" 

As the}^ took him below, and into the surgeon's room, 
already filled with the wounded, he looked around upon 
the unfortunate group, and said : 

*' If there are any here hurt worse than I am let them 
be attended to first." 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 231 

His shattered limb was immediately amputated. Sood 
after, as he lay upon his couch, exhausted by the opera- 
tion and faint from the loss of blood, he heard the noise 
of the escape of steam as a rebel shot penetrated the 
boiler. Inquiring the cause, and learning that the ship 
had become disabled, he exclaimed with fervor : 

'' I would willingly give my other leg if we could but 
pass those batteries !" 

A few days after this Christian hero died of his wound. 

Just above the batteries were several rebel gunboats. 
They did not venture into the melee, but anxiously 
watched the fight, until, apprehensive that some of our 
ships might pass, they put on all steam and ran up the 
river as fast as their web feet could carry them. But 
now denser and blacker grew the dark billows of smoke. 
It seemed impossible, if the steamers moved, to avoid 
running into each other or upon the shore. An officer 
of eaeh ship placed himself at the prow, striving to pene- 
trate the gloom. A line of men passed from him to the 
stern, along whom, even through the thunders of the 
battle, directions could be transmitted to the helmsman. 
Should any of the ships touch the ground beneath the 
fire of such batteries their destruction would be almost 
sure. 

It was a little after eleven o'clock at night when the 
first shot had been fired. For an hour and a half the 
unequal conflict had raged. The flag-ship " Hartford" 
and the '^ Albatross" succeeded in forcing their Avay 
above the batteries, and in thus gaining the all-impor- 
tant object of their enterprise. The " Richmond" follow- 
ing, had just passed the principal batteries when a shot 
penetrated her steam-chest, so effectually disabling her 



232 DARING ^ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

for the hour that she dropped, ahnost helpless, down 
the stream. The " Genesee," which was alongside, 
unable to stem the rapid current of the river, with the 
massive " Richmond" in tow, bore her back to Prophet's 
Island. Just as the '' Richmond" turned a torpedo explod- 
ed under her stern, throwing up the water mast-head high 
and causing the gallant ship to quiver in every timber. 

The '' Monongahela" and " Kineo" came next in line 
of battle. The commander of the " Monongahela," Cap- 
tain M'Kinstry, was struck down early in the conflict. 
The command then devolved on a gallant young officer. 
Lieutenant Thomas. He manfully endeavored through 
all the storm of battle to follow the flag-ship. But in 
the dense smoke the pilot lost the channel. The ship 
grounded directly under the fire of one of the principal 
rebel batteries. For twenty-five minutes she remained 
in that perilous position, swept by shot and shell. 
Finally, through the efforts of her consort, the " Kineo," 
she was floated, and again heroically commenced steam- 
ing up the river. But her enginery soon became so dis- 
abled under the relentless fire, that the " Monongahela" 
was also compelled to drop down with the " Kineo" to 
the position of the mortar fleet. Her loss was six killed 
and twenty wounded. 

In obedience to the order of Admiral Farragut, the 
magnificent ship " Mississippi" brought up the rear, with 
the gunboat '' Sachem" as her ally, bound to her larboard 
side. She had reached the point directl}^ opposite the 
town, and her officers were congratulating themselves 
that they had surmounted the greatest dangers, and that 
they would soon be above the batteries, when the ship, 
which had just then been put under rapid headway, 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 233 

grounded on the west bank of the river. It was an awful 
moment ; for the guns of countless batteries were immedi- 
ately concentrated upon her. Captain Smith, while, with 
his efficient engineer Rutherford he made the most stren- 
uous exertions to get the ship afloat, ordered his gunners 
to keep up their fire with the utmost possible rapidity. 
In the short space of thirty-five minutes they fired two 
hundred and fifty shots. The principal battery of the foe 
was within five hundred yards of the crippled ship, and the 
majestic fabric was soon riddled through and through 
by the storm v/ith which she was so pitilessly pelted. 
The dead and the wounded strewed the decks, and it 
was soon evident that the ship could not be saved. 

Captain Smith prepared to destroy the ship, that it 
might not fall into the hands of the rebels, and to save 
the crew. Captain Caldwell, of the iron-clad " Essex," 
hastened to his rescue. Under as murderous a fire as 
mortals were ever exposed to, the sick and wounded 
were conveyed on board the ram. Combustibles were 
placed in the fore and after part of the shij), to which 
the torch was to be applied so soon as the crew had all 
escaped to the western shore. By some misunderstand- 
ing she was fired forward before the order was given. 
This caused a panic, as there were but three small boats 
by which they could escape. Some plunged into the 
river and were drowned. It is related, in evidence of 
the coolness of Captain Smith, that in the midst of this 
awful scene, while lighting his cigar with steel and flint, 
he remarked to Lieutenant Dewy : 

'^ It is not likely that we shall escape, and we must 
make every preparation to secure the destruction of the 
ship." 



234 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

After spiking nearly every gun with his own hands, 
and seeing that the survivors of his crew were fairly clear 
of the wreck, Captain Smith, accompanied by Lieutenant 
Dewey, Ensign Bachelder, and Engineer Tower, sadly 
took their leave, abandoning the proud fabric to the 
flames. Scarcely had they left, when two shells came 
crashing through the sides of the " Mississippi," overturn- 
ing, scattering, and enkindling into flame some casks of 
turpentine. The ship was almost instantly enveloped in 
billows of fire. A yell of exultation rose from the rebels 
as they beheld the bursting forth of the flames. The 
ship, lightened by the removal of three hundred men, 
and by the consuming power of the fire, floated from the 
sand bar and commenced floating, bow on, down the river. 

The scene presented was indeed magnificent. The 
whole fabric was enveloped in flame. Wreathing ser- 
pents of fire twined around the masts and ran up the 
shrouds. Drifting rapidly downward on the rapid cur- 
rent, the meteor, like a volcanic mountain in eruption, 
descended as regularly along the western banks of the 
stream as if steered by the most accomplished helmsman. 
As the ship turned round, in floating ofl", the guns of 
her port battery, which had not been discharged, faced 
the foe. As the fire reached them the noble frigate, 
with the stars and stripes still floating at her peak, 
opened a new bombardment of the rebel batteries. The 
shells began to explode, scattering through the air in 
' all directions. The flaming vision arrested every eye, 
on the land and on the ships, until the floating moun- 
tain of fire drifted down and disappeared behind 
Prophet's Island, And now came the explosion of the 
magazine. There was a vivid flash, shooting upward 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 235 

to the sky in the form of an inverted cone. For a 
moment the whole horizon seemed ablaze with fiery 
missiles. Then came booming- over the waves a peal of 
heaviest thunder. The very hills shook beneath the 
awful explosion. This was the dying cry of the " Mis- 
sissippi" as she sank to her burial beneath the waves of 
the river from which she received her name. 

Captain Caldwell, of the "Essex," who, as soon as he 
saw the " Mississippi," to be on fire, gallantly steamed 
to her aid, directly under the concentrated fire of the 
batteries, succeeded in picking up many who were strug- 
gling in the waves, and in rescuing others who had 
escaped to the shore. There were about three hmidred 
men on hoard the '' Mississippi " Of these sixty-five 
officers and men were either killed, wounded, or taken 
prisoners. Seventy, who escaped to the shore, wandered, 
for many miles, down the western banks of the stream, 
in constant danger of being taken captive, wading the 
bayous, and encountering fearful hardships, until they 
finally reached the ships below. Two ships, the "Hart- 
ford" and the ''Albatross," succeeded in running the 
gauntlet. 



-•— »^-^-.-«— *- 



IIUNNING THE BATTERIES AT VICKSBURG. 

The fate of the " Mississippi," in her attempt to pass 
the batteries at Port Hudson, might well have appalled 
the stoutest heart; but, in war, necessity is stronger than 
law — stronger than human suffering, or than any ob- 
stacle which may oppose its action. It was necessary 



236 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

for General Grant, while marcliing his troops overland 
on the west side of the Mississippi, toward the point 
from which he intended to cross and attack Vicksburg 
from the south and east, to have transports and gun- 
boats below the Vicksburg and Warren ton batteries 
to bring supplies and ferry his troops across the Mis- 
sissippi, as well as to attack the Warrenton batteries 
from below. 

Oil consultation with Admiral Porter, that brave 
officer proposed to send down eight gunboats, three 
transports, and a number of barges and flat boats, 
laden with commissary supplies, past the batteries to 
New Carthage. These were all manned by \olunteers, 
who were not deterred by the previous misfortunes 
of Farragut's squadron from undertaking this perilous 
expedition. 

The former attempts at running the Vicksburg bat- 
teries had been made shortly before, or at daylight ; this 
time a change was resolved upon. Eleven o'clock at 
night was appointed as the hour at which the boats 
should leave their rendezvous, which was near the mouth 
of the Yazoo river. To the anxious expectants of the 
coming events, the hours stole slowly by. As the ap- 
pointed moment drew near, the decks of the various 
steamboats were crowded with watchful spectators. 

A sort of apprehensive shudder ran through the col- 
lected gazers when it was announced that the first boat 
destined to pass the batteries was approaching. Sombre 
and silent it floated down, near the Louisiana shore ; 
scarcely were its dark sides to be distinguished from the 
foliage lining the bank. Stealing slowly on, it passed 
the group of steamers,. and at a point below took an 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 237 

ob'ique course, steering for the Mississippi side of the 
river ; and, in the gloom, it was soon confounded with 
the dark shadow of the trees beyond. 

Before tliis boat was lost sight of, another succeeded, 
and to that another, and another, until, before midnight, 
the whole had gained the Mississippi side of the river, 
and were swallowed up in the dim obscurity. With 
breathless interest their transit was watched by all of 
those on the boats of the fleet, whose position, a little 
above the entrance of the first canal, brought the rough 
heights of Vicksburg within their sphere of vision, 
though the town lay, for the present, buried in the dark- 
ness, except where now and then the twinkling of a 
starry light was seen. 

As the boats, with lights out and fires carefully hid- 
den, floated past, indistinct as the ghosts of Ossian in 
the mountain mists, it was curious to note the effect 
upon the spectators. Before they appeared, the hum of 
conversation was heard all around. All were busy with 
speculations as to the ^probabilities of success. The de- 
sponding prognosticated unmitigated disaster. The 
hopeful indulged in confident speculations. All were 
contented to endure some loss, provided a sufliciency ar- 
rived at the destined point to accomplish the object con- 
templated. 

As the various boats came slowly into view, stole past 
with noiseless motion, then vanished into the recesses 
of the shadowy shore, each voice was hushed ; only in 
subdued and smothered tones were persons, at intervals, 
heard to ask a question or venture an observation. It 
seemed as if each one felt that his silence was due to the 
impressive scene ; as if an indiscreet utterance on his 



238 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

part might raise the vail of secrecy, so necessary to be 
preserved in the presence of a watchful foe. 

A painful expectation weighed on every spirit. The 
boats must now be near the point opposite the belea- 
guered city. Will they be discovered at the first ap- 
proach, or will a kindly fortune give them easy passage 
by ? Suddenly a flame starts up ! Another and another 
leaps into the darkness of the night ! The enemy has 
seen the passing boats, and is sending across the river 
his death-dealing messengers. Rapid now dart the mo- 
mentary fires ; the iron rain of the remorseless cannon 
hurtles upon the dim and gliding boats. Dull upon the 
heavy air, scarce nerved by the night wind, which blows 
in a direction unfavorable for their hearing, reverberates 
the heavy thud of the cannon. 

As the time passes, the batteries lower and still lower 
come into action. The gazers can trace the course of the 
fleet by new flames, that each moment startle the 
strained sight; and cannon, for miles along the hazy 
shore, are hurling their destructive missiles. A new ac- 
cessorj'- now adds its influence to the exciting scene. 
While the spectators had been engaged in watching the 
vivid flames leaping from cannon mouths and exploding 
shells, a gleam of light, first pale and soft, then red and 
lurid, and at last glaring and refulgent, stole up into the 
heavens above the opposing city. For the first time, the 
silence was broken by the gazing crowds upon the steam- 
boats of the fleet. " Vicksburg is on fire !" was uttered 
in excited tones. But it was not so. Steady and with 
wonderful brilliancy, upon the hill on which the city 
stands, the fire assumed a circular outline on the upper 
edge, much like a third part of the full moon when, 




-^^■J^^ 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 239 

apparently magnified, it is rising above tlie liori/on. The 
flame glowed brilliant and beautiful — no smoke was visi- 
ble to dim its splendor. It was a b(;acon light, placed 
in a position to throw its beams along each arm of the 
bend of the river, the convex side of which is turned 
toward Vicksburg. So powerful was the light that, at 
the i)oint where the steamboat fleet was moored, the 
shadow of a hand, held a foot from the boat's side, was 
distinctly thrown upon it. This beacon, with treacher- 
ous fidelity, showcnl to the foe the now fast disappearing 
boats; but, happily, it was fired too late. The sight of 
th(; l)0{its nppeared to add new rage to the enemy, who 
could not fail to count the cost to him of such a fleet 
joining Farragut's three; gunboats already between Vicks- 
burg and Port Hudson. The firing became more rapid. 
From the upper batteries to the last ones down at War- 
renton, leaped flame on flame. The dull echo of the 
cannon, and the whirr and. shriek of the flying shells, 
startled the midnight air. But now comes a roar which 
t(^lls that the Union boys are awake and lively ! The 
light that showed the boats to the enemy, revealed to 
the gunners on the gunboats the outlines of the batteries, 
and the roar which deafens the ear to every other sound 
is the peal of their heavy pieces. After an interval of 
maddest rage, the upper guns of the enemy almost 
cease their fire. It is evident that the boats have passed 
the first reached batteries — all of them that have es- 
caped the deadly onset. That no large portion of them 
is missing, is apparent from the activity of the forts at 
Warrenton, and the answering thunders of the Union 
guns. 

By this time the beacon light was burnt down, and 



240 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

ceased to render its cruel aid. Just as the gathering 
darkness and the yet longerand larger intervals of silence 
gave intimation that the exciting scene was nearly over, 
another startling incident woke anew the emotions of 
the time. Midway between the extinct beacon in the 
city and the lower batteries at Warren ton, a new glow 
of light, soft as the dawn, but rapidly blushing into 
deeper intensity, climbed gently toward the sky. "They 
are lighting another beacon," shouted many voices ; but 
again the speakers were mistaken. The light grew 
stronger every moment ; it wanted the mellow, vivid, 
space-penetrating brilliancy of the beacon ; above it 
rolled volumes of thick curling smoke; and more — the 
light, with slow and equal pace, was moving down the 
stream ! There was no disguising the truth — one of 
our own boats was on fire. The white color of the 
smoke showed that among the fuel to the flame was 
cotton. The inference was plain ; it was not a gunboat 
but a transport that was burning, for the latter, alone, 
were protected by bales of cotton. On floated the doomed 
vessel ; her light doubtless exposed to the rebels' view 
the floating flat boats and barges ; further firing, espe- 
cially from the Warrenton batteries, was for a short time 
violently renewed. 

The glow of the burning boat continued in sight until 
the beams of morning hid its glare. Before this, more- 
over, the solemn drama had reached its termination. 
The spectators reluctantly retired to their cabins, when 
nothing remained to engage the attention but the flaming 
wreck and scattering shots : 

" The distant and random gun, 
That the foe was sullenly firing." 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 241 

It was not until noon of the next day (April 17, 
1863) that the account of the fate of the expedition 
reached the Union camp at Young's Point. The eight 
gunboats reached their destination with but slight in- 
juries or loss of life, only one man having been killed 
and two wounded. The transport Henry Clay was 
burned ; but the other transports, flat boats, etc., made 
the passage in safety, and the crew of the Henry Clay 
reached the shore and joined some of the other boats. 
A few days later. Admiral Porter sent a second squad- 
ron of gunboats and transports down, but the transports 
in this expedition were seriously damaged. 



THE CAVALRY FIGHT AT BRANDY STATION. 

This action, one of the most brilliant in which our 
cavalry were engaged, and one of the first in which 
they won the reputation of being superior to the rebels 
in that arm of the service, in Avhich they had especially 
IDlumed themselves, is thus graphically described by a 
participator in it : 

" It was the prettiest cavalry fight that you ever saw," 
said the adjutant, stretching his legs, and lighting a 
fresh cigar. 

" It v/as just my luck to lose it," I answered. '' Here 
have I been lying, growling and grumbling, while 
you fellows have been distinguishing yourselves. It 
was miserable to be taken sick just when the army 

16 



242 DARING ENTERnUSES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

got ill motion, ;iiul still worse not to hoar a word of 
what was goini;- on. 1 ahnost wished tliat we had been 
a n&iospaper regiment, so that I couhl Uwrn something 
abont our share in that day's work. l>e a good I'ellow, 
and i)lay reporter for my beneiit. Freshen hawse, as the 
nantieal novelists say, and begin." 

" Well, we were lying at Warrenton Junction, making 
ourselves as comfortable as possible after the raid, when 
on the morning of the 8th of June, the whole division 
Mas ordered out in the very liiihtest marching' order. 
That night we I'ciy close to Kelly's Ford, in column of 
battalions, the men holding their horses as they slept, 
and no fires being lighted. 

"At four o'clock on the morning of the 9th, we were 
again in motion, and got across the ford without inter- 
ruption or discovery. Yorke, with the third squadron, 
was ill advance, and as we moved, he managed so well 
that he bagged every picket on the road. Thus we had 
got almost upon the rebel camp before we were discovered. 
We rode right into Jones' Brigade, the First Jersey and 
First Pennsylvania charging together ; and before they 
had recovered from the alarm we had a hundred and 
lifty prisoners. The rebels were then forming thick 
upon the hill-side by the station, and they had a battery 
playing upon us like fun. Martin's New York Battery 
on our side galloped into position, and began to answer 
them. Then Wyndham formed his whole brigade for a 
charge, except a Sijuadron of the First Mar3-'land, left 
to support the battery. Our boys went in splendidly, 
keeping well together, and making straight for the rebel 
battery on the hill behind the station. AYyndham 
himself rode on the right, and Broderick charged more 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 243 

« 

toward the left, and with a yell we were on them. We 
were only two hundred nnd eighty strong, and in front 
of us was White's Battalion of five hundred. No mat> 
ter for that. Wyndharn and Broderick were leading, 
and they were not accustomed to count odds. 

"As we dashed fiercely into them, sabre in hand, they 
broke like a wave on the bows of a ship, and over and 
through them we rode, sabreing as we went. We could 
not stop to take prisoners, for there in front of us was 
the Twelfth Virginia, six hundred men, riding down tx) 
support White. By Jove, sir, that was a charge ! They 
came up splendidly, looking steadier than we did our- 
selves after the shock of the first charge. I do not 
know whether Wyndham was still with us, or if he had 
gone to another regiment; but there was Broderick, 
looking full of light, his blue eyes in a blaze, and his 
sabre clenched, riding well in front. At them we went 
again, and some of them this time met us fairly. I saw 
Broderick's sabre go through a man, and the rebel gave 
a convulsive leap out of his saddle, falling senseless to 
the ground. It seemed but an instant before the rebels 
were scattered in every direction, trying now and then 
to rally in small parties, but never daring to await our 
approach. 

'' Now, there were the guns plain before us, the 
drivers yelling at their horses, and trying to limber up. 
We caught one gun before they could move it, and were 
dashing after the others, when I heard Broderick shout- 
ing in a stormy voice. I tell you, it was a startling sight. 
The fragments of White's Battalion had gathered to- 
gether toward the left of the field, and were charging in 
our rear. The First Maryland was there, and Broderick 



244 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

was shouting at them in what their colonel considered a 
* very ungentlemanly manner,' to move forward to the 
charge. At the same time two fresh regiments, the 
Eleventh Virginia, and another, were coming down on 
our front. Instead of dashing at White's men, the 
First Maryland wavered and broke, and then we were 
charged at the same time in front and rear. We had 
to let the guns go, and gather together as well as possi- 
ble to cut ourselves out. Gallantly our fellows met the 
attack. We were broken, of course, by the mere 
weight of the attacking force, but, breaking them up too, 
the whole field was covered with small squads of fight- 
ing men. I saw Broderick ride in with a cheer, and 
open a way for the men. His horse went down in 
the melee ; but little Wood, the bugler of Company G, 
sprang down, and gave him his animal, setting off him- 
self to catch another. A rebel rode at the bugler, and 
succeeded in getting away his arms before help came. 
As Wood still went after a horse another fellow rode 
at him. 

" The boy happened at that moment to see a carbine, 
where it had been dropped after firing. He picked up 
the empty weapon, aimed it at the horseman, made him 
dismount, give up his arms, and start for the rear. 
Then he went in again. Lucas, Hobensack, Brooks, 
and Beekman, charged with twelve men into White's 
Battalion. Fighting hand to hand, they cut their way 
through, but left nine of the men on the ground behind 
them. Hughes was left almost alone in a crowd, but 
brought himself and the men with him safe through. 
Major Shelmire was seen last lying across the dead body 
of a rebel cavalryman. None of us thought any thing 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 245 

of two to one odds, as long as we had a chance to ride 
at them. It was only when we got so entangled that 
we had to fight hand to hand that their numbers told 
heavily. It was in such a place that I lost sight of 
Broderick. The troop horse that he was riding was not 
strong enough to ride through a knot of men, so that he 
had to fight them. He struck one so heavily that he 
was stunned by the blow, but his horse was still in the 
way; swerving to one side, he escaped a blow from 
another, and, warding off the thrust of a third, man- 
aged to take him with his point across the forehead ; 
just as he did so, however, his sabre, getting tangled 
with the rebel's, was jerked from his hand. 

"He always carried a pistol in his boot. Pulling 
that out, he fired into the crowd, and put spurs to his 
horse. The bullet hit a horse in front of him, which 
fell. His own charger rose at it, but stumbled, and 
as it did, Broderick himself fell, from a shot fired 
within arms' length of him and a sabre stroke upon his 
side. 

" I saw all this as a man sees things at such times, 
and am not positive even that it all occurred as I 
thought I saw it ; for I was in the midst of confusion, 
and only caught things around by passing glimpses. 
You see I was myself having as much as I could do. 
The crowd with whom Broderick was engaged was a 
little distance from me ; and I had just wheeled to ride 
up to his help when two fellows put at nie. The first 
one fired at me and missed. Before he could again cock 
his revolver I succeeded in closing with him. My sabre 
took him just in the neck, and must have cut the jugu- 
lar. The blood gushed out in a black looking stream ; 



•24G DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

he gave a horrible 3'ell, aiid fell over the side of his 
horse, which galloped away. Then I gathered up my 
reins, spurred my horse, and went at the other one. I 
was riding that old black horse that used to belong to 
the signal sergeant, and it was in fine condition. As I 
drove in the spurs it gave a leap high in the air. That 
plunge saved ni}^ life. The rebel had a steady aim at 
me ; but the ball went through the black horse's brain. 
His feet never touched ground again. With a terrible 
convulsive contraction of all his muscles the black 
turned over in the air, and fell on his head and side 
stone dead, pitching me twenty feet.* I lighted on my 
pistol, the butt forcing itself far into my side ; my sabre 
sprung out of my hand, and I lay, w4th arms and legs 
all abroad, stretched out like a dead man. Everybody 
had something else to do than to attend to me, and there 
I lay where I had fallen. 

'' It seemed to me to have been an age before I began 
painfully to come to myself; but it could not have been 
many minutes. Every nerve was shaking ; there w\as a 
terrible pain in my head, and a numbness through my 
side which was even worse. Fighting was still going 
on around me, and my first impulse was to get hold of 
my sword. I crawled to it and sank down as I grasped 
it once more. That was only for a moment; for a 
rebel soldier seeing me mo^e, rode at me. The pres- 
ence of danger roused me, and I managed to get to 
my horse, behind which I sank, resting my pistol on the 
saddle, and so contriving to get an aim. As soon as the 
man saw that, he turned off without attacking me. I 
was now able to stand and walk ; so, holding my pistol 
in one hand and -my sabre in the other, I made my way 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 247 

across the fields to where our battery was posted, scaring 
some with my pistol, and shooting others. Nobody 
managed to hit me through the whole fight. When I 
got up to the battery I found Wood there. lie sang out 
to me to wait, and he would get me a horse. One of 
the men, who had just taken one, was going past, so 
Wood stopped him and got it for me. 

"Just at that moment White's Battalion and some 
other troops came charging at the battery. The squad- 
ron of the First Maryland, who were supporting it, met 
the charge well as far as their numbers went ; but were, 
of course, flanked on both sides by the heavy odds. All 
of our men who were free came swarming up the hill, 
and the cavalry were fighting over and around the guns. 
In spite of the confusion, and even while their comrades 
at the same piece were being sabred, the men at that 
battery kept to their duty. They did not even look up 
or around, but kept up their fire with unwavering 
steadiness. There was one rebel, on a splendid horse, 
who sabred three gunners while I was chasing him. 
He wheeled in and out, would dart away, and then 
come sweeping back and cut down another man in a 
manner that seemed almost supernatural. We at last 
succeeded in driving him away, but we could not 
catch or shoot him, and he got off without a scratch. 

" In the meantime the fight was going on elsewhere. 
Kilpatrick's Brigade charged on our right. The Second 
New York did not behave as w^ell as it has sometimes 
done since, and the loss of it weakened us a great deal. 
The Tenth New York, though, went in well, and the 
First Maine did splendidly, as it always does. In spite 
of their superior numbers (Stuart had a day or two 



248 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

before reviewed thirty thousand cavalry at Culpepper, 
according to the accounts of rebel officers), we beat 
them heavily, and M^ould have routed them completely 
if Duffie's Brigade had come up. He, however, was 
engaged with two or three hundred men on the left ; 
the aide-de-camp sent to him with orders was wounded 
and taken prisoner, and he is not the sort of man to 
find out the critical point in a fight of his own accord. 

^' So now, they bringing up still more reserves, and 
a whole division of theirs coming on the field, we began 
to fall back. We had used them up so severely that 
they could not press us very cloee, except in the neigh- 
borhood of where the Second New York charged. 
There some of our men had as much as they could do 
to get out, and the battery had to leave three of its guns. 
We formed in the woods between a quarter and half a mile 
of the field, another regiment moved back to cover the 
left of Buford, who was in retreat toward Beverly Ford. 
Hart and Wynkoop tried hard to cover the guns that 
were lost, but they had too few men, and so had to 
leave them. The rebels were terribly punished. By 
their own confession they lost three times as many as 
we did. In our regiment almost every soldier must 
have settled his man. Sergeant Craig, of Company K, 
I believe, killed three. Slate, of the same company, 
also went above the average. But vv^e lost terribly. 
Sixty enlisted men of the First Jersey were killed, 
wounded, or missing. Colonel Wyndham was wounded, 
but kept his saddle ; Lieutenant-Colonel Broderick and 
Major Shelmire were killed ; Lieutenant Brooks was 
wounded; Captain Sawyer and Lieutenant Crocker 
were taken prisoners ; and I, as you see, have had to 
come in at last and refit." 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 249 



THE CAPTURE OF MISSION RIDGE. 

The campaign of Chattanooga, in October and Novem- 
ber, 1863, was as brilliant as it was brief. It was not 
the continuous "pounding" of Vicksburg, the dogged 
and obstinate fighting, and the terrible slaughter of the 
battles in Virginia in the spring and summer of 1864 ; 
but in dash, in skilful surmounting of obstacles, in bril- 
liant and heroic achievement, it was surpassed by n.o 
campaign of the war. Each of its five engagements had 
something of special merit to entitle it to lasting remem- 
brance ; the adroitly managed surprise by which the 
command of the river was won, and the toilsome sixty 
miles' travel of the supply trains over the worst roads 
in the world reduced to ten miles over a good road, and 
the subsequent sharp but successful battle of Wauhatchie, 
in which the gray-haired hero, Geary, showed himself 
as skilful as he was daring, indicated that the general 
in command at Chattanooga was fully master of the 
situation. The capture of Lookout mountain by Gene- 
ral Hooker ; the conflict '' above the clouds," where the 
lurid light that flamed from Union and rebel cannon 
mimicked, with wonderful effect, the thunders of Heaven's 
own artillery, and where, with every struggle, the stars 
and stripes crept higher and higher toward that summit 
which overlooked so many battle fields, till the morn- 
ing's light beheld them waving proudly from its highest 
point ; the bold and rapid movement, by which, while 
marshalled, as the enemy supposed, for a dress parade, 
the Army of the Cumberland swept across the plain and 
captured Orchard Knob ; that succession of fierce and 



250 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

persistent struggles in which Sherman wrestled for the 
capture of Tunnel Hilly and by which he drew to that 
point so large a portion of Bragg's troops ; and last and 
most glorious of all that fiery ascent of Mission Ridge, 
in which that noble Fourth Corps marched and climbed 
for a long hour through a furnace of flame, and after 
struggling up an ascent so steep that to climb it unop- 
posed would task the stoutest energies, swept their 
enemies from its summit, and over all that broad vista 
disclosed from its summit, saw only a flying and utterly 
routed foe. Many waiters have attempted to describe, 
and with varying success, this brilliant feat of arms, but 
none have succeeded so admirably as Mr. B. F. Taylor, 
of the " Chicago Journal," himself an eye-witness of it. 
We give a portion of his description, which is as truthful 
as it is glowing : 

The brief November afternoon was half gone ; it was 
yet thundering on the left ; along the centre all was still. 
At that very hour a fierce assault was made upon the 
enemy's left near Rossville, four miles down toward the 
old field of Chickamauga. They carried the Kidge ; Mis- 
sion Ridge seems everywhere — they strewed its summit 
with rebel dead ; they held it. And thus the tips of the 
Federal army's wide-spread wings flapped grandly. But 
it had not swooped ; the gra}- quarry yet perched upon 
Mission Ridge ; the rebel army was terribly battered at 
the edges, but there full in our front it grimly waited, 
biding out its time. If the horns of the rebel crescent 
could not be doubled crushingly together, in a shapeless 
mass, possibly it might be sundered at its centre, and 
tumbled in fragments over the other side of Mission 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 251 

Eidge. Sherman was halted upon the left ; Hooker was 
holding hard in Chattanooga Valley ; the Fourth Corps, 
that rounded out our centre, grew impatient of restraint ; 
the day was waning ; but little time remained to com- 
plete the commanding general's grand design ; Gordon 
Granger's hour had come ; his work was full before him. 

And what a work that was to make a weak man falter 
and a brave man think ! One and a half miles to trav- 
erse, with narrow fringes of woods, rough valleys, sweeps 
of open field, rocky acclivities, to the base of the ridge, 
and no foot in all the breadth withdrawn from rebel 
sight ; no foot that could not be played upon by rebel 
cannon, like a piano's keys, under Thalberg's stormy 
fingers. The base attained, what then? A heavy rebel 
work, packed with the enemy, rimming it like a battle- 
ment. That work carried, and what then? A hill, 
struggling up out of the valley, four hundred feet, rained 
on by bullets, swept by shot and shell ; another line of 
works, and then, up like a Gothic roof rough with rocks, 
a wreck with fallen trees, four hundred more ; another 
ring of fire and iron, and then the crest, and then the 
enemy. 

To dream of such a journey would be madness ; to 
devise it a thing incredible ; to do it a deed impossible. 
But Grant loas guilty of them all, and Granger was equal 
to the iDorh. The story of the battle of Mission Ridge is 
struck with immortality already ; let the leader of the 
Fourth Corps bear it company. 

That the centre yet lies along its silent line is still 
true ; in five minutes it will be the wildest fiction. Let 
us take that little breath of grace for just one glance at 
the surroundings, since we shall have neither heart nor 



252 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AMD MEN. 

eyes for it again. Did ever battle have so vast a cloud 
of witnesses? The hive shaped hills have swarmed. 
Clustered like bees, blackening the housetops, lining 
the fortifications, over yonder aci'oss the theatre, in the 
seats with the Catilines, everywhere, are a hundred thou- 
sand beholders. Their souls are in their ej^es. Not a 
murmur can you hear. It is the most solemn congre- 
gation that ever stood up in the presence of the God of 
battles. I think of Bunker Hill, as I stand here ; of the 
thousands who witnessed the immortal struggle ; and 
fancy there is a parallel. I think, too, that the chair of 
every man of them will stand vacant against the wall 
to-morrow, and that around the fireside they must give 
thanks without him if they can. 

At half-past three, a group of generals, whose names 
will need no " Old Mortality" to chisel them anew, 
stood upon Orchard Knob. The hero of Vicksburg was 
there, calm, clear, persistent, fixr-seeing. Thomas, the 
sterling and steady ; Meigs, Hunter, Granger, Reynolds. 
Clusters of humbler mortals w^ere there, too, but it was 
any thing but a turbulent crowd ; the voice naturally 
fell into a subdued tone, and even young faces took on 
the gravity of later years. Generals Grant, Thomas, 
and Gra7iger conferred, an order loas given, and in an 
instant the Knoh toas cleared like a ships deck for action. 
At twenty minutes of four. Granger stood upon the 
parapet ; the bugle swung idle at the bugler's side, the 
warbling fife and the grumbling drum unheard — there 
was to be louder talk — six guns, at intervals of two 
seconds, the signal to advance. Strong and steady his 
voice rang out : " Number one, fire ! Number two, fire ! 
Number three, fire !" it seemed to me the tolling of the 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 253 

clock of destiny — and when at '' Number six, fire !" the 
roar throbbed out with the flash, you should have seen 
the dead line that had been lying behind the works all 
day, all night, all day again, come to resurrection in the 
twinkling of an eye — leap like a blade from its scab- 
bard, and sweep with a two-mile stroke toward the ridge. 
From divisions to brigades, from brigades to regi- 
ments, the order ran. A minute, and the skirmishers 
deploy ; a minute, and the first great drops begin to 
patter along the line; a minute, and the musketry is in 
full play, like the crackling whips of a hemlock fire ; 
men go down, here and there, before your eyes; the 
wind lifts the smoke and drifts it away over the top of 
the ridge ; every thing is too distinct ; it is fairly palpa- 
ble ; you can touch it with your hand. The divisions 
of Wood and Sheridan are wading breast deep in the 
valley of death. 

I never can tell you what it was like. They pushed 
out, leaving nothing behind them. There was no re- 
servation in that brittle. On moves the line of skir- 
mishers, like a heavy frown, and after it, at quick time, 
the splendid columns. At right of us, and left of us, 
and front of us, you can see the bayonets glitter in 
the sun. You cannot persuade yourself that Bragg 
was wrong, a day or two ago, when, seeing Hooker 
moving in, he said, "Now we shall have a Potomac 
review ;" that this is not the parade he prophesied ; 
that it is of a truth the harvest of death to which 
they go down. And so through the fringe of woods 
went the line. Now, out into the open ground they 
burst at the double-quick. Shall I call it a Sabbatli 
day's journey, or a long one and a half mile ? To me, 



254 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

that watched, it seemed endless as eternity, and yet 
they made it in thirty minutes. The tempest that now 
broke upon their heads was terrible. The enemy's fire 
burst out of the rifle-pits from base to summit of Mis- 
sion Ridge; five rebel batteries of Parrotts and Napo- 
leons opened along the crest. Grape and canister and 
shot and shell sowed the ground with rugged iron, 
and garnished it with the wounded and the dead. 
But steady and strong our columns move on. 

" By heavens ! It was a splendid sight to see, 
For one who had no friend, no brother there ;" 

but to all loyal hearts, alas ! and thank God, those men 
were friend and brother, both in one. 

And over their heads, as they went, Forts "Wood 
and Negley struck straight out like mighty pugilists 
right and left, raining their iron blows upon the Ridge 
from base to crest; Forts Palmer and King took up 
the quarrel, and Moccasin Point cracked its fiery whips 
and lashed the rebel left till the, wolf cowered in its 
corner with a growl. Bridges' Battery, from Orchard 
Knob below, thrust its ponderous fists in the face 
of the enemy, and planted blows at will. Our artil- 
lery was doing splendid service. It laid its shot and 
shell wherever it pleased. Had giants carried them 
by hand they could hardly have been more accurate. 
All along the mountain's side, in the rebel rifle-pits, 
on the crest, they fairly dotted the Ridge. General 
Granger leaped down, sighted a gun, and in a moment, 
right in front, a great volume of smoke, like '' the 
cloud by day," lifted off the summit from among the 
rebel batteries, and hung motionless, kindling in the 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 255 

sun. The shot had struck a caissoiij and that was its 
dying breath. In five minutes away floated another. 
A shell went crashing through a building in the cluster 
that marked Bragg's headquarters ; a second killed the 
skeleton horses of a battery at his elbow, a third scat- 
tered a gray mass as if it had been a wasp's nest. 

And all the while our lines were moving on ; they 
had burned through the woods and swept over the 
rough and rolling ground like a prairie fire. Never 
halting, never fiiltering, they charged up to the first 
rifle-pits with a cheer, forked out the rebels with their 
bayonets, and lay there panting for breath. If the 
thunder of guns had been terrible, it was now growing 
sublime; it was like the footfall of God on the ledges of 
cloud. Our forts and batteries still thrust out their 
mighty arms across the valley ; the rebel guns that lined 
the arc of the crest full in our front, opened like the fixn 
of Lucifer, and. converged their fire down upon Baird, 
and Wood, and Sheridan. It was rifles and musketry ; 
it was grape and canister ; it was shell and schrapnel. 
Mission Ridge was volcanic ; a thousand torrents of red 
poured over its brink and rushed together to its base. 
And our men were there, halting for breath ! And still 
the sublime diapason rolled on. Echoes that never 
waked before, roared out from height to height, and 
called from the far ranges of Waldron's Ridge to Look- 
out. As for Mission Ridge, it had jarred to such music 
before ; it was the " sounding-board" of Chickamauga ; 
it was heliind us then ; it frowns and flashes in our faces 
to-day; the old Army of the Cumberland was there ; it 
breasted the storm till the storm was spent, and left the 
ground it held ; the old Army of the Cumberland is 



256 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

here ! It shall roll up the Ridge like a surge to its 
summit, and sweep triumphant down the other side. 
Believe me, that memory and hope may have made the 
heart of many a blue coat beat like a drum. '' Beat," 
did I say ? The feverish heat of the hattle beats on ; 
fifty-eight guns a minute, by the watch, is the rate of 
its terrible throbbing. That hill, if you climb it, will 
appal you. Furrowed like a summer-fallow, bullets as 
if an oak had shed them ; trees clipped and shorn, leaf 
and limb, as with the knife of some heroic gardener 
pruning back for richer fruit. How you attain the 
summit, weary and breathless, I wait to hear; how 
they went up in the teeth of the storm no man can 
tell! 

And all the while rebel prisoners have been streaming 
out from the rear of our lines like the tails of a cloud of 
kites. Captured and disarmed, they needed nobody to 
set them going. The fire of their own comrades was like 
spurs in a horse's flank, and amid the tempest of their 
own brewing they ran for dear life, until they dropped 
like quails into the Federal rifle-pits, and were safe. 
But our gallant legions are out in the storm ; they 
have cai'ried the works at the base of the Ridge; they 
have fallen like leaves in winter weather. Blow, dumb 
bugles ! 

Sound the recall ! '' Take the rifle-pits," was the 
order ; and it is as empty of rebels as the tomb of the 
prophets. Shall they turn their backs to the blast ? 
Shall they sit down under the eaves of that dripping 
iron ? Or shall they climb to the cloud of death 
.above them, and pluck out its lightnings as they would 
straws from a sheaf of wheat ? But the order was not 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS A.ND MEN. 2r57 

given. And now the <arc of fire on the crest grows 
fiercer and longer. The reconnoissance of Monday had 
failed to develop the heavy metal of the enemy. The 
dull fringe of the hill kindles with the flash of great 
guns. I count the fleeces of white smoke that dot the 
Ridge, as battery after battery opens upon our line, until 
from the ends of the growing arc they sweep down upon 
it in Triighty Xs of fire. I count till that devil's girdle 
numbers thirteen batteries, and my heart cries out, 
" Great God, when shall the end be !" There is a poem 
I learned in childhood, and so did you : it is Campbell's 
" Hohenlinden." One line I never knew the meaning 
of until I read it written along that hill ! It has lighted 
up the whole poem for me with the glow of battle for- 
ever : 

"And louder than the bolts of heaven, 
Far flashed the red artillery." 

At this moment. General Granger's aides are dashing 
out with an order; they radiate over the field, to left, 
right, and front; "Take the Ridge if you can" — 
" Take the Ridge if you can" — and so it went along the 
line. But the advance had already set forth without 
it. Stout-hearted Wood, the iron-gray veteran, is rally- 
ing on his men ; stormy Turchin is delivering brave 
words in bad English ; Sheridan — " little Phil" — you 
may easily look down upon him without climbing a tree, 
and see one of the most gallant leaders of the age if you 
do — is riding to and fro along the first line of rifle- 
pits, as calmly as a chess-player. An aide rides up 
with the order. " Avery, that flask," said the general. 
Quietly filling the pewter cup, Sheridan looks up at the 

17 



258 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

• 

battery that frowns above him, by Bragg's headquarters, 
shakes his cap amid that storm of ever}^ thing that kills, 
when you could hardly hold out your hand without catch- 
ing a bullet in it, and with a ^' how are you ?" tosses off 
the cup. The blue battle flag of the rebels fluttered a 
response to the cool salute, and the next instant the bat- 
tery let fly its six guns, showering Sheridan with earth. 
Alluding to that compliment with any thing but a 
blank cartridge, the general said to me in his quiet way, 

" I thought it ungenerous !" The recording angel 

will drop a tear upon the word for the part he played 
that day. Wheeling toward the men, he cheered them 
to the charge, and made at the hill like a bold riding 
hunter ; they were out of the rifle-pits, and into the tem- 
pest, and struggling up the steep, before you could get 
breath to tell it, and so they were throughout the in- 
spired line. 

And now you have before you one of the most start- 
ling episodes of the war; I cannot remember it in words ; 
dictionaries are beggarly things. But I may tell you they 
did not storm that mountain as you would think. They 
dash out a little way, and then slacken ; they creep up, 
hand over hand, loading and firing, and wavering and 
halting, from the first line of works to the second ; they 
burst into a charge with a cheer, and go over it. Sheets 
of f3ame baptize them; plunging shot tear away com- 
rades on left and right; it is no longer shoulder to 
shoulder ; it is God for us all ! Under tree trunks, 
among rocks, stumbling over the dead, struggling with 
the living, facing the steady fire of eight thousand in- 
fantry poured down upori their heads as if it were the 
old historic curse from heaven, they wrestle with the 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 259 

Ridge, Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes go by like a reluc- 
tant century. The batteries roll like a drum ; between 
the second and last lines of rebel works is the torrid 
zone of the battle; the hill sways up like a wall before 
them at an angle of forty-five degrees, but our brave 
mountaineers are clambering steadily on — up — upward 
still ! You may think it strange, but I would not have 
recalled them if I could. They would have lifted you, 
as they did me, in full view of the heroic grandeur \ 
they seemed to be spurning the dull earth vmder their 
feet, and going u|) to do Homeric battle with the greater 
gods. 

And what do those men follow ? If you look you shall 
see that the thirteen thousand are not a rushing herd of 
human creatures ; that along the Gothic roof of the Ridge 
a row of inverted Vs is slowly moving up in line, a 
mighty lettering on the hill's broad side. At the angles 
of those Vs is something that glitters like a wing. Your 
heart gives a great bound when you think what it is — 
the regimental /lag — and" glancing along the front count 
fifteen of those colors that were borne at Pea Ridge, 
waved at Shiloh, glorified at Stone River, riddled at 
Chickamauga. Nobler than Coesar's rent mantle are they 
all ! And up move the banners, now fluttering like a 
wounded bird, now faltering, now sinking out of sight. 
Three times the flag of one regiment goes down. And 
you know why. Three dead color-sergeants lie just 
there, but the flag is immortal — thank God ! — and up it 
comes again, and the Vs move on. At the left of Wood, 
three regiments of Baird — Turchin, the Russian thunder- 
bolt, is there — hurl themselves against a bold point 
strong with rebel works ; for a long quarter of an hour 



2G0 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

three flags are perched and motionless on a plateau 
under the frown of the hill. Will they linger forever? 
I give a look at the sun behind me ; it is not more than 
a hand's breadth from the edge of the mountain ; its 
level rays bridge the valley from Chattanooga to the 
Ridge with beams of gold ; it shines in the rebel faces ; 
it brings out the Federal blue ; it touches up the flags. 
Oh, for the voice that could bid that sun stand still ! I 
turn to the battle again : those three flags have taken 
flight! They are upward bound. 

The race of the flags is growing every moment more 
terrible. There at the right, a strange thing catches the 
eye ; one of the inverted Vs is turning right side up. 
The men struggling along the converging lines to over- 
take the flag have distanced it, and there the colors are, 
sinking down in the centre between the rising flanks. 
The line wavers like a great billow and up comes the 
banner again, as if heaved on a surge's shoulder. The 
iron sledges beat on. Hearts, loyal and brave, are on 
the anvil, all the way from base to summit of Mission 
Ridge, but those dreadful hammers never intermit. 
Swarms of bullets sweep the hill ; you can count twenty- 
eight balls in one little tree. Things are growing des- 
perate up aloft ; the rebels tumble rocks upon the rising 
line ; they light the fuses and roll shells down the steep ; 
they load the guns with handfuls of cartridges in their 
haste ; and as if there were powder in the word, they 
shout " Chickamauga !" down upon the mountaineers. 
But it would not all do, and just as the sun, weary of 
the scene, was sinking out of sight, with magnificent 
bursts all along the line, exactly as you have seen the 
crested seas leap up at the breakwater, the advance 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 261 

surged over the crest, and in a minute those flags flut- 
tered along the fringe where fifty rebel guns were ken- 
neled. God bless the flag ! God save the Union ! 

What colors were first upon the mountain battlement 
I dare not try to say ; bright honor itself may be proud 
to bear — na}^ proud to follow the hindmost. Foot by 
foot they had fought up the steep, slippery with much 
blood; let them go to glory together. A minute and 
they were all there, fluttering along the ridge from lefk 
to right. The rebel hordes rolled off to the north, rolled 
off to the east, like the clouds of a worn out storm. 
Bragg, ten minutes before, was putting men back in the 
rifle-pits. His gallant gray was straining a nerve for him 
now, and the man rode on horseback into Dixie's bosom, 
who, arrayed in some prophet's discarded mantle, foretold 
on Monday that the Yankees would leave Chattanooga 
in five days. They left in three, and by way of Mission 
Ridge, straight over the mountains as their forefathers 
went ! As Sheridan rode up to the guns, the heels of 
Breckinridge's horse glittered in the last raj-s of sunshine. 
The crest was hardly ''well off with the old love before 
it was on with the new." 

But the scene on the narrow plateau can never be 
painted. As the blue coats surged over its edge, cheer on 
cheer rang like bells through the valley of the Chick am au- 
ga. Men flung themselves exhausted upon the ground. 
They laughed and wept, shook hands, embraced ; turned 
round and did all four over again. It was jis wild as a 
carnival. Granger was received with a shout. '' Soldiers," 
he said, "you ought to be court-martialed, every man of 
you. I ordered you to take the rifle-pits and you scaled 
the mountain !" but it was not Mars' horrid front exactly 



262 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

with which he said it, for his chocks were wet with tears 
as honest as the blood that reddened all the route. 
Wood uttered words that rang like "Napoleon's," and 
Sheridan, the rowels at his horse's flanks, was ready for 
a dash down the Ridge with a '' view halloo," for a fox 
hunt. 

But you must not think this was all there was of the 
scene on the crest, for fight and frolic was strangely 
minsjled. Not a rebel had dreamed a man of us all 
would live to reach the summit, and when a little wave 
of the Federal cheer rolled up and broke over the crest, 
they defiantly cried " Hurrah and be damned !" the next 
minute a Union regiment followed the voice, the rebels 
delivered their fire, and tumbled down in the rifle-pits, 
their faces distorted with fear. No sooner had the sol- 
diers scrambled to the Ridge and straightened themselves, 
than up muskets and away they blazed. One of them, 
fairly beside himself between laughing and crjdng, 
seemed puzzled at w^hich end of his piece he should load, 
and so abandoning the gun and the problem together, 
he made a catapult of himself and fell to hurling stones 
after the enemy. And he said, as he threw — well, you 
know our " army swore terribly in Flanders." Bayonets 
glinted and muskets rattled. General Sheridan's horse 
Avas killed under him ; Richard was not in his role, and 
so he leaped upon a rebel gun for want of another. 
Rebel artillerists are driven from their batteries at the 
edge of the sword and the point of the bayonet ; two 
rebel guns are swung around upon their old masters. 
But there is nobody to load them. Light and heavy 
artillery do not belong to the winged kingdom. Two 
infantrjanen claiming to be old artillerists, volunteer. 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 263 

Granger turns captain of the guns, and — right about 
wheel ! — in a moment they are growling after the flying 
enemy. I say " flying," but that is figurative. The 
many run like Spanish merinos, but the few fight like 
gray wolves at bay ; they load and fire as they retreat ; 
they are fairly scorched out of position. 

A sharpshooter, fancying Granger to be worth the 
powder, coolly tries his hand at him. The general hears 
the zip of a ball at one ear, Imt doesn't mind it. In a 
minute away it sings at the other. He takes the hint, 
sweeps with his glass the direction whence the couple 
came, and brings up the marksman, just drawing a bead 
upon him again. At that instant a Federal argument 
persuades the cool hunter and down he goes. That long 
range gun of his was captured, weighed twenty-four 
pounds, was telescope-mounted, a sort of mongrel howit- 
zer. 

A colonel is slashing away with his sabre in a ring of 
rebels. Down goes his horse under him ; they have him 
on the hip ; one of them is taking deliberate aim, when 
up rushes a lieutenant, clasps a pistol to one ear and 
roars in at the othe<*, '' Who the h — 1 are you shooting 
at?" The fellow drops his piece, gasps out, " I surren- 
der," and the next instant the galhmt lieutenant falls 
sharply wounded. He is a "roll of honor" ofiicer, 
straight up from the ranks, and he honors the roll. 

A little German in Wood's Division is pierced like the 
lid of a pepper-box, but he is neither dead nor wounded. 
" See here," he says, rushing up to a comrade, " a pullet 
hit te preach of mine gun — a pullet in mine pocket- 
book — a pullet in mine coat tail — they shoots me tree, 
five time, and py dam I gives dem h — 1 yet !" 



264 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

But I can render you no idea of the battle caldron 
that boiled on the plateau. An incident here and there 
I have given you, and you must fill out the picture for 
yourself. Dead rebels lay thick around Bragg's head- 
quarters and along the Ridge. Scabbards, broken arms, 
artillery horses, wrecks of gun-carriages, and bloody 
garments, strewed the scene ; and, tread lightly, oh ! loyal- 
hearted, the boys in blue are lying there ; no more the 
sounding charge, no more the brave, wild cheer, and 
never for them, sweet as the breath of the new-mown 
hay in the old home fields, " The Soldier's Return from 
the War." A little waif of a drummer-boy, somehow 
drifted up the mountain in the surge, lies there ; his 
pale face upward, a blue spot on his breast. Muffle his 
drum for the poor child and his mother. 

Our troops met one loyal welcome on the height. 
How the old Tennessean that gave it managed to get 
there nobody knows, but there he was, grasping a col- 
onel's hand, and saying, while tears ran down his face : 
" God be thanked ! I knew the Yankees would fight !" 
With the receding flight and swift pursuit the battle 
died away in murmurs, far down the valley of the 
Chickamauga ; Sheridan was again in the saddle, and 
with his command spurring on after the enem^^ Tall 
columns of smoke were rising at the left. The rebels 
were burning a train of stores a mile long. In the ex- 
ploding rebel caissons we had " the cloud by day," and 
now we are having ''the pillar of fire by night." The 
sun, the golden dish of the scales that balance day and 
night, had hardly gone down, when up, beyond Mission 
Ridge, rose the silver side, for that night it was full 
moon. The troubled day was done. A Federal general 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 265 

sat in the seat of the man who, on the very Saturday before 
tlxe hattle, had sent a flag to the Federal Imes with the 
words : 

" Hunii'inity would dictate the removal of all non- 
combatants from Chattanooga, as I am about to she^l 
the city !" 

Sat there, and announced to the Fourth Corps the 
congratulations and thanks, just placed in his hands, 
from the commander of the department : 

" Bragg's Headquarters, Mission Ridge, November 25, 1863. 

" In conveying to you this distinguished recognition 
of your signal gallantry in carrying, through a terrible 
storm of iron, a mountain crowned with batteries and 
enriched with rifle-pits, I am constrained to express my 
own admiration of your noble conduct, and am proud 
to tell you that the veteran generals from other fields, 
who witnessed your heroic bearing, place your assault 
and triumph among the most brilliant achievements of 
the war. Thanks, soldiers ! You have made, this 
day, a glorious page of history. 

"Gordon Granger." 

There was a species of poetic justice in it all, that 
would have made the prince of dramatists content. The 
ardor of the men had been quenchless : there had been 
three days of fitful fever, and after it, alas ! a multitude 
had slept well. The work on the right, left, and centre 
cost us full four thousand killed and wounded. There 
is a tremble of the lip, but a flash of pride in the eye, 
as the soldier tells with how many he went in — how 
expressive that " went in !" Of a truth it was wading 
in deep waters — with how few we came out. I cannot 
trj^ to swing the burden clear of any heart, by throwing 
into the scale upon the other side the dead weight of 



266 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

fifty-two pieces of captured artillery, ten thousand stand 
of arms, and heaps of dead rebels, or by driving upon a 
herd of seven thousand prisoners. Nothing of all this 
can lighten that burden a single ounce, but this thought 
may, and I dare to utter it : These three days' work 
brought Tennessee to resurrection ; set the flag, that 
fairest blossom in all this flowery world, to blooming in 
its native soil once more. 

That splendid march from the Federal line of battle 
to the crest, was made in one hour and five minutes, 
but it was a grander march toward the end of rebeldom; 
a glorious campaign of sixty-five minutes toward the 
white borders of peace. It made that fleeting Novem- 
ber afternoon imperishable. Than the assault upon 
Mission Ridge, I know of nothing more gallant in the 
annals of the war. Let it rank foremost with the storm- 
ing of Forts Scharnitz and Alma, that covered the French 
arms with undying fame. 

Reader and writer must walk toorether down the 
heights another day ; press that rugged earth with the 
first backward step a loyal foot has made upon it, and, 
as we linger, recall a few of the incidents that will ren- 
der it historic and holy ground for coming time. Let 
the struggle be known as the Battle of Mission Ridge, 
and when, in calmer days, men make pilgrimage, and 
women smile again among the mountains of the Cum- 
berland, they will need no guide. Rust will have eaten 
the guns ; the graves of the heroes will have subsided 
like waves ; weary of their troubling, the soldier and his 
leader will have lain down together; but there, em- 
bossed upon the globe. Mission Ridge will stand its fit- 
ting monument forever. 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 267 



SHERIDAN AT MIDDLETOWN. 

One of the most brilliant actions of the war — indeed, 
one of the most brilliant of any war of modern times — 
was that victory M^hich the gallant Sheridan snatched 
from defeat and disaster at Middletown, Virginia, on the 
19th of October, 1864. Three or four times in the mil- 
itary history of the last five hundred years, has an able 
and skilful commander succeeded in stemming the cur- 
rent of disaster, and turning a defeat into a victory ; but 
it has usually been done either by bringing up reinforce- 
ments, and thus staying the progress of the exultant 
and careless foe, or by suffering a day to intervene be- 
tween the defeat and the victory ; at Marengo, it was 
the approach of reinforcements which enabled Dessaix 
to say to the first Napoleon : " We have lost one battle, 
but it is not too late to win another." At Shiloh, the 
reinforcements from Wallace's Division and Buell's 
Corps, and the intervention of the night, enabled Grant 
to recover, on the second day, all, and more than all, 
the losses of the first. At Stone River, the skill and 
genius of Rosecrans stayed the tide of disaster, and 
enabled the Army of the Cumberland, though suffering 
heavily, to maintain its position, and two days later to 
inflict upon the enemy a fearful punishment for his 
temerity. At Chickamauga, General Thomas maintained 
himself grandly in the face of a foe greatly superior to 
himself in numbers, and after one third of the army had 
been driven from the field, still held the rebels at bay ; 
and, with the aid of Steedman's reinforcements, drove 
them back a little distance j but in none of these cases, 



2G8 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

except that at Marengo, was the army rallied from a 
defeat able at once to drive the foe in return, and, in 
that case, only by the aid of reinforcements. 

In Sheridan's case, there were no reinforcements ex- 
cept himself; his army was defeated and routed ; yet, at 
his cheering voice, and under the influence of his extra- 
ordinary personal magnetism, the flying, demoralized, 
and routed troops, turned back and hurled by his skilful 
hand upon the enemy, caused them in turn to fly with 
such precipitation as to leave cannon, arms, ammunition, 
every thing, behind them. Well did General Grant char- 
acterize the brave soldier who could do this as one of the 
greatest of generals. 

With a brief description of the circumstances of the 
defeat, we will proceed to give the narrative of an eye- 
witness and participator in the subsequent victory 
Sheridan had, as those familiar with the history of the 
campaigns of the Army of the Shenandoah Avill recol- 
lect, repeatedly defeated Early during the previous 
month, driving him with heavy loss across and south- 
ward from the Opequan creek, on the 19th of September, 
and sending him " whirling" through Winchester ; rout- 
ing him at Fisher's Hill on the 22d of September, and 
sending his troops in rapid flight and disorder up the 
valley to Harrisonburg; had "fixed" the new cavalry 
general, Rosser, on the 8th of October, and repelled 
with heavy loss a covert attack made by Early from 
North mountain, on the 12th of October. Supposing 
that the rebel general had been sufiiciently punished to 
be willing to remain quiet, General Sheridan made a 
flying visit to his out-stations along the newly repaired 
Manassas Gap Railroad, and thence to Washington, from 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 269 

whence he hastened back to his command, and, on the 
night of the 18th of October, reached Winchester. 

But Early, restless and dissatisfied with the result of 
his previous encounters with the gallant cavalry general, 
was yet determined to try his fortune once more, and 
learning of his absence, and having received information, 
which he afterward found to his sorrow was false, that 
Sheridan had gone with the Sixth Corps to join the 
Army of the Potomac, he was emboldened to make 
another attack with, as he conceived, good hope of suc- 
cess. He had himself been reinforced meanwhile by a 
considerable body of troops (twelve thousand, it was said), 
a part of them without arms, but well drilled and ready 
for fight, if they could only procure weapons. With a 
daring which partook largely of rashness, he sent his 
troops into the gorge at the base of the Massanutten 
mountain, across the north fork of the Shenandoah, and 
skirted Crook's position for miles, passing for a consider- 
able distance within four hundred yards of the Union 
pickets. Had his troops been detected in this march 
(and the chances of detection were almost a hundred to 
one), his army would have been ruined. The Union 
infantry would have cut his in two, and the Union 
cavalry would have prevented his retreat to Fisher's 
Hill. But his management of the advance was admira- 
ble. The canteens had been left in his camp, lest they 
should clatter against the shanks of the bayonets ; the 
men crept noiselessly along in the darkness, and passed 
the dangerous points with complete success. Once, in- 
deed, they were in danger of discovery. The rustling 
of the underbrush, and the muffled tramp of this large 
body of men, was heard by some of the outlying pickets, 



270 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

who reported it ; but the approach of Early seemed so 
utterly improbable that no precautions were taken against 
a surprise. By dawn of day, Gordon's Rebel Division, 
closely followed by Ramseur, Pegram, Kershaw, and 
Wharton, had flanked Crook's Corps (Army of Western 
Virginia), and assaulted his camp before the men could 
form in line of battle. The Union army was ranged, in 
military phrase, en echelon; i. e., in successive steps, the 
Army of Virginia, which was in front, extending also far- 
thest south. Having flanked and rolled up this corps, the 
rebels, Gordon still heading, proceeded to flank the Nine- 
teenth Corps, which occupied the next '^ step" of the 
echelon, and, after a short but determined struggle, drove 
that also northward. The Sixth Corps interposed a 
stronger obstacle to their progress, but that, too, was 
finally flanked, and all were compelled to retreat north- 
ward through Middletown toward Winchester. The 
first stragglers had by this time, about ten A. m., reached 
Winchester. 

The camps, commissary supplies, and lines of earth- 
works of the Union army, had fallen into the hands of 
the rebels, and they had captured twenty-four cannon 
and twelve hundred prisoners. The Union army was 
beaten, badly beaten, though not routed; they were re- 
treating slowly and in good order, but still retreating 
toward Winchester. 

How all this was changed by Sheridan's arrival, let 
Captain de Forest, himself a staff'-officer and actor in the 
battle, tell : 

At this time, at the close of this unfortunate struggle 
of five hours, we were joined by Sheridan, who had 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 271 

passed the night in Winchester, un his way back from 
Washington, and who must have heard of Early's attack 
about the time that its success became decisive. It was 
near ten o'clock when he came up the pike at a three- 
minute trot, swinging his cap and shouting to the strag- 
glers : '' Face the other way, boys. We are going back 
to our camps. We are going to lick them out of their 
boots !" 

The wounded by the roadside raised their hoarse 
voices to shout; the great army of fugitives turned 
about at sight of him, and followed him back to the 
front; they followed him back to the slaughter as 
hounds follow their master. The moment he reached 
the army he ordered it to face about, form line, and 
advance to the position which it had last quitted. Then 
for two hours he rode along the front, studying the 
ground and encouraging the men. " Boys, if I had been 
here this never should have happened," he said, in his 
animated, earnest way. '' I tell you it never should 
have happened. And now we are going back to our 
camps. We are going to get a twist on them. We are 
going to lick them out of their boots." 

The Sixth Corps held the pike and its vicinity. On 
its right the Nineteenth Corps was formed in double 
line, under cover of a dense wood, the first division on 
the right, the second on the left. The rearmost line 
threw up a rude breastwork of stones, rails, and trees, 
covered by the advanced line standing to arms, and 
by a strong force of skirmishers stationed two hun- 
dred yards to the front, but still within the forest. For 
two hours all was silence, preparation, reorganization, 
and suspense. Then came a message from Sheridan to 



272 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

Emory that the enemy in column Avere advancing 
against the Nineteenth Corps; and shortly afterward 
the column appeared among the lights and shadows of 
the autumnal woods, making for the centre of our 
second division. There was an awful rattle of mus- 
ketry, which the forest re-echoed into a deep I'oar, and 
when the firing stopped and the smoke cleared away no 
enemy was visible. Emory immediately sent word to 
Sheridan that the attack had been repulsed. 

" That's good, that's good !" Sheridan answered, 
gayly. " Thank God for that ! Now then, tell General 
Emory if they attack him again to go after them, and 
to follow them up, and to sock it to them, and to give 
them the devil. We'll get the tightest twist on them 
yet that ever you saw. We'll have all those camps and 
cannon back again." All this, with the nervous anima- 
tion characteristic of the man, the eager and confident 
smile, and the energetic gesture of the right hand down 
into the palm of the left at every repetition of the idea 
of attack. 

At half-past three came more explicit orders. •' The 
entire line will advance. The Nineteenth Corps will 
move in connection with the Sixth Corps. The right 
of the Nineteenth will swing toward the left so as to 
drive the enemy upon the pike." 

One of our staff officers exclaimed, " By Jove, if we 
beat them now it will be magnificent!" 

'"And we are very likely to do it," said General 
Emory. " They will be so far from expecting us." 

It must be understood that the enemy's left was now 
his strong point, being supported by successive wooded 
crests; while his right ran out to the pike across undu- 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 273 

lating open fields wliich presented no natural line of re- 
sistance. Sheridan's plan was to push them off the 
crests by a turning movement of our right, and tlien, 
when they were doubled up on the pike, sling his cavalry 
at them across the Middletown meadows. With a solemn 
tranquillity of demeanor our infantry rose from the posi- 
tion where it had been lying, and advanced through the 
forest into the open ground beyond. There was a silence 
of suspense; then came a screaming, crackling, hum- 
ming rush of shell; then a prolonged roar of musketry, 
mingled with the long-drawn yell of our charge ; then 
the artillery ceased, the musketry died into spattering 
bursts, and over all the yell rose triumphant. Every 
thing on the first line — the stone walls, the advanced 
crest, the tangled wood, the half finished breastworks — 
had been carried. The first body of rebel troops to 
break and fly was Gordon's Division, the same which 
had so perseveringly flanked us in the morning, and 
which was now flanked by our own first division of the 
Nineteenth Corps. 

After this there was a lull in the assault, though not 
in the battle. The rebel artillery re-opened spitefully 
from a new position, and our musketry responded from 
the crest and wood which we had gained. Sheridan 
dashed along the front, re-organizing the line for a second 
charge, cheering the men with his confident smile and 
emphatic assurances of success, and giving his orders in 
person to brigade, division, and corps commanders. He 
took special pains with the directiem of our first divi- 
sion, wheeling it in such a manner as to face square 
toward the pike, and form nearly a right angle to the 

enemy's front. Now came a second charge upon a 
18 



271 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

second line of stone walls, crests, and thickets, exe- 
cuted with as much enthusiasm and rapidity as if the 
army had just come into action. Remember that our 
gallant fellows had eaten nothing since the previous 
evening ; that they had lost their canteens, and were 
tormented with thirst ; that they had been fighting and 
manoeuvring, frequently at double-quick, for nearly 
twelve hours ; and that they were sadly diminished in 
numbers by the slaughter and confusion of the morning. 
Remember, too, that this lost battle was retrieved with- 
out a reinforcement. Only veterans, and only veterans 
of the best quality, disciplined, intelligent, and brave, 
could put forth such a supreme eftbrt at the close of a 
long, bloody, and disastrous conflict. As one of Sheri- 
dan's staff officers followed up our first division, and 
watched the yelling, running, panting soldiers, not firing 
a shot, but simply dashing along with parched, open 
mouths, he said, '' Those men are doing all that flesh 
and blood can." 

" Your fellows on the right went in mighty pretty this 
afternoon," I heard Custer say that evening to Emory. 
" I had to sing out to my men, 'Are you going to let the 
infantry beat you ?' " 

Everybody now knoAvs by reputation this brilliant 
officer, and can understand that we have a right to be 
proud of his praise. 

The battle was over. Cavalry on the flanks, and in- 
fantry in the centre, we carried the second line with the 
same rush and with even greater ease than the first. 
Again Early's army was "whirling up the valley," in 
more hopeless confusion this time than after Winches- 
ter or Strasburg, no exertions of the rebel officers being 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 275 

sufficient to establish another line of resistance, or to 
check, even momentarily, the flow and spread of the 
panic. Colonel Love, of the One-hundred-and-sixteenth 
New York, dashed his horse into the broken ranks of 
the Second South Carolina, and captured its battle flag, 
escaping unhurt from the bullets of the color-guard. 
But the fighting soon swept f{ir ahead of the tired in- 
fantry, which followed in perfect peace over the ground 
that during the morning it had stained with the blood 
of its retreat. Dead and wounded men, dead and 
wounded horses, dismounted guns, broken-down cais- 
sons, muskets with their stocks shivered and their bar- 
rels bent double by shot, splinters of shell, battered 
bullets, and blood over all, like a delirium of Lady 
Macbeth or the Chourineur, bore testimony to the des- 
perate nature of the long, wide-spread conflict. The 
number of slaughtered horses was truly extraordinary, 
showing how largely the cavalry had been used, and 
how obstinately the artillery had been fought. I noticed 
that almost every dead soldier was covered by an over- 
coat or blanket, placed over him by some friend or per- 
haps brother. Of the wounded, a few lay quiet and 
silent ; here and there one uttered wild, quavering cries 
expressive of intense agony or despair; others, and 
these the majority, groaned from time to time gently, 
and with a pitiful, patient courage. One man, whose 
light blue trowsers were clotted with that dull crimson 
so sickeningly common, and whose breath was short and 
voice hoarse, called feebly as we passed, " Hurrah for 
General Emory!" 

"Are you badly hurt, my lad ?" asked Emory, stop- 
ping his horse. 



!27G DARIXG ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

" My leg is broken by a rifle ball, general. I sup- 
pose I shall lose it. But I still feel — as if 1 could say — 
hurrah for General Emory. I fought under you — at 
Sabine Crossroads — and Pleasant Hill." 

The general dismounted to give the sufferer a glass 
of whisky, and left a guard to see that he was put into 
an ambulance. 

It was nearly dark when our corps reached its camps. 
No new arrangement of the line was attempted ; in 
the twilight of evening the regiments filed into the 
same positions that they had quitted in the twilight of 
dawn ; and the tired soldiers lay down to rest among 
dead comrades and dead enemies. They had lost every 
thing but what they bore on their baclcs or in their 
hands ; their shelter-tents, knapsacks, canteens, and 
haversacks had been plundered by the rebels ; and they 
slept that night, as they had fought that day, without 
food. 

But there was no rest for the enemy or for our cav- 
alry. All the way from our camps to Strasburg, a dis- 
tance of four miles, the pike was strewn with the debris 
of a beaten army ; and the scene in Strasburg itself was 
such a flood of confused flight and chase, such a chaos 
of wreck, and bedlam of panic, as no other defeat of the 
war can parallel. Guns, caissons, ammunition wagons, 
baggage wagons, and ambulances by the hundred, w'ith 
dead or entangled and struggling horses, were jammed 
in the streets of the little town, impeding alike fugi- 
tives and pursuers. Our troopers dodged through the 
press as they best could, pistoling, sabreing, and taking 
prisoners. A private of the Fifth New York Cavalry 
riding up to a wagon, ordered the five rebels who were 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 277 

in it to surrender; and when they only lashed their 
horses into a wilder gallop he shot two with his re- 
volver and brought in the three others. The usually 
gallant and elastic Southern infantry were so stupefied 
by fatigue and cowed by defeat that it seemed like a 
flock of animals, actually taking no notice of mounted 
men and officers from our army, who wandered into the 
wide confusion of its retreat. Lieutenant Gray, Com- 
pany D, First Rhode Island Artillery, galloped up to a 
retreating battery and ordered it to face about. '' I was 
told to go the rear as rapidly as possible," remonstrated 
the sergeant in command. " You don't seem to know 
who I am," answered Gray. '' I am one of those d — d 
Yanks. Countermarch immediately !" The battery was 
countermarched, and Gray was leading it off alone, when 
a squadron of our cavalry came up and made the cap- 
ture a certainty. 

The victory was pushed, as Sheridan has pushed all 
his victories, to the utmost possible limit of success, the 
cavalry halting that night at Fisher's Hill, but starting 
again at dawn, and continuing the chase to Woodstock, 
sixteen miles from Middletown. 

It was a gay evening at our headquarters, although 
we were worn out with fatigue, and as chilled, starved, 
and shelterless as the soldiers, our tents, baggage, 
rations, and cooks, having all gone to Winchester. 
Notwithstanding these discomforts, notwithstanding the 
thought of slain and wounded comrades, it was delight- 
ful to talk the whole day over, even of our defeat of the 
morning, because we could say, "All's well that ends 
well." It was laughable to think of the fugitives who 
had fled beyond the hearing of our victory, and who 



278 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

were now on their way to Martinsburg, spreading the 
news that Sheridan's army had been totally defeated, 
and that they (of course) were the only survivors. 
Then every half hour or so somebody galloped in from 
the advance with such a tale of continuing success that 
we could hardly grant our credence to it before a fresh 
messenger arrived, not so much to confirm the story as 
to exaggerate it. 

It was "• Hurrah ! twenty cannon taken at Strasburg. 
That makes twenty-six so far." 

"Glorious! Don't believe it. Isn't it splendid? 
Impossible ! All our own back again," answered the 
contradictory chorus. 

Then came another plunge of hoofs, reining up with 
another " Hurrah ! forty-six guns ! More wagons and 
ambulances than you can count !" 

In truth the amount of material captured in this vic- 
tory was extraordinary. Two days after the battle I 
saw near Sheridan's headquarters a row of forty-nine 
pieces of artillery, of which twenty -four had been lost by 
us and retaken, while the others were Early's own. In 
addition, the rebels lost fifty wagons, sixty-five ambu- 
lances (some of them marked " Stonewall Brigade"), 
sixteen hundred small arms, several battle flags, fifteen 
hundred prisoners, and probably two thousand killed 
and wounded. Our own losses were : Crook's command, 
one hundred killed and wounded, and seven hundred 
prisoners ; the Ninteenth Corps, sixteen hundred killed 
and wounded, and one hundred prisoners; the Sixth 
Corps, thirteen hundred killed and wounded; total, 
three thousand eight hundred. 

The only reinforcement which the Army of the 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 279 

Shenandoah received, or needed to recover its lost field 
nf battle, camps, intrenchments, and cannon was one 
man — Sheridan. 



Refusing to Volunteer in the Rebel Army. — In 
the same prison with Parson Brownlow and other Union- 
ists in Tennessee, was a venerable clergj^nan, named 
Gate, and his three sons. One of them, James Madison 
Gate, a most exemplary and worthy member of the Bap- 
tise church, was there for having committed no other 
crime than that of refusing to volunteer in tlie rebel 
army. He lay stretched at full length upon the floor, 
with one thickness of a piece of carpet under him, and 
an old overcoat doubled up for a pillow — and he in the 
agonies of death. His wife came to visit him, bringing 
her youngest child, which was but a babe. They were 
refused admittance. Parson Brownlow here put his 
head out of the jail window, and entreated them, for 
God's sake, to let the poor woman come in, as her hus- 
band was dying. The jailer at last consented that she 
might see him for the limited time of fifteen minutes. 
As she came in, and looked upon her husband's wan and 
emaciated face, and saw how rapidly he was sinking, 
she gave evident signs of fainting, and would have fallen 
to the floor with the babe in her arms, had not Parson 
B. rushed up to her and seized the babe. Then she 
sank down upon the breast of her dying husband, unable 
to speak. When the fifteen minutes had expired, the 
oflficer came in, and in an insulting and peremptory man- 
ner notified her that the interview was to close. 



280 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

NARRATIVE OF CAPTAIN JOHN F. PORTER, JR., 

FOURTEENTH NEW YORK CAVALRY — PARTICULARS OF HIS ESCAPE. 

Captain John F. Porter, of the Fourteenth New 
York Cavalry, arrived in New York on Monday night, 
February 15th, 1864, from Washington, having escaped 
from Richmond, where he was a prisoner of war. Cap- 
tain Porter was taken prisoner on the 15th of June, 1863, 
in the attack on Port Hudson. He was carried to J ack- 
son, and thence conducted to the rebel capital, which he 
reached on the 29 th of June. In Richmond, he was 
incarcerated in the now famous Libby prison. 

Some two months previous to his escape, Caj^tain Por- 
ter determined upon making such an attempt. He then 
tried to purchase a rebel uniform, but could not get it. 
At a later date, however, he succeeded in procuring rebel 
clothing, several brother officers in prison providing him 
with each article suitable for his purpose, which they 
possessed. Captain Porter was so emaciated from want 
of food and the sufferings while in prison, as well as a 
severe wound which he received at the second Bull Run, 
that he found much difficulty in walking; but after 
taking a little exercise daily, and gradually increasing 
the same, he soon found his strength increasing, and 
nerved himself to the task of an effort to escape. 

On the morning of the 29th of last January, accom- 
panied by Major E. L. Bates of the Eighteenth Illinois 
Volunteers, Captain Porter made his first attempt. He 
went down to the main entry of the prison and entered 
the surgeon's room. Here he informed the surgeon that 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 281 

he was attacked with chills, and so deceived this excel- 
lent medical gentleman that he gave him medicine for 
the disease. He next passed down into the room occu- 
pied by the commissary, shaved his beard and darkened 
his eyebrows and hair, thus disguising himself perfectly. 
Captain Porter did not then endeavor to pass out of the 
gate, but waited until three o'clock in the afternoon, 
w^hich was the hour designated for roll-call. At this 
time he went into the middle room of the prison, and, 
roll-call being over, went down with the guard. Captain 
Porter then waited until the guard went into the build- 
ing, and while a new one w^as being placed on duty, 
passed Post No. 1, down Carey street, in which Libby 
Prison is situated. Having got outside of the city limits, 
he suddenly stumbled against a batterj^, and, seeing a 
negro in the vicinity, asked the name of the battery, and 
was told it was No. 4, Passed out along the Nine Mile 
road, and, coming to a wood, stayed there over night, 
and returned to Richmond next morning, in order to 
await a more favorable opportunity for reaching the 
Union lines. In Richmond, Captain Porter now re- 
mained nine days without suspicion, during which time 
he passed around the entire fortifications of the city. 
At the end of that time he procured a passport from a 
rebel officer, and, in company with a family of Irish 
refugees, started for the Army of the Potomac, Arriving 
at Cat Tail Church, in Hanover county, the party were 
suddenly surrounded by rebel cavalry. Captain Porter s 
passport was rigorously examined, and his person robbed 
of one hundred dollars Confederate money, the rebels 
leaving him fifty in his possession. Two days after, 
having reached the Rappahannock, the river was crossed 



282 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

into Richmond county, and the party reached the banks 
of the Potomac on Thursday. They were secreted in 
the house of a Union gentleman until Friday night, 
who, for twenty dollars in gold, chartered a boat to 
carry them to Maryland. They were then landed at 
Clement's bay, St. Mary's county, Maryland. Captain 
Porter here fell in with a detachment of the Second, 
Fifth, and Sixth Regular Cavalry, and was by them 
escorted to Leonardtown. Here the escaped officer was 
provided with transportation to Point Lookout, where, 
on reporting to General Manton, he was sent on to 
Washington. 

Major Bates, who escaped a few hours previous to 
Captain Porter, was subsequently recaptured. 

Captain Porter says that the tunnel by which the last 
batch of officers made their escape from Libby Prison, 
was commenced on last New Year's Night. It extended 
from one of the lower rooms of the prison some two 
hundred yards into the street, opening on a vacant lot. 



The Youngest Soldier in the Army of the Cumber- 
land. — At the Caledonian supper in Cincinnati, Ohio, 
during December, 1863, General Rosecrans exhibited 
the photograph of a boy Avho he said was the youngest 
soldier in the Army of the Cumberland. His name is 
Johnny Clem, twelve years of age, a member of Com- 
pany C, 22d Michigan Infantry. His home was at New- 
ark, Ohio. He first attracted the attention of General 
Rosecrans during a review at Nashville, where he was 
acting as marker for his regiment. His extreme ^outh 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 283 

(he is quite small for his age) and intelligent appearance 
interested tlie^ general, and calling him to him he ques- 
tioned him as to his name, age, regiment, etc. General 
Rosecrans spoke encouragingly to the young soldier, and 
told him to come and see him whenever he came where 
he was. He saw no more of the boy until the end of 
1863, when he went to his place of residence — the Bur- 
net House — and found Johnny Clem sitting on his sofa, 
waiting to see him. Johnny had experienced some of 
the vicissitudes of war since last they met. He had 
been caj)tured by Wheeler's cavalry near Bridgeport. 
His captors took him to Wheeler, who saluted him 
with — 

'' What are you doing here, you d d little Yankee 

scoundrel ?" 

Said Johnny Clem, stoutly : '^ General Wheeler, I 
am no more a d d scoundrel than you are, sir." 

Johnny said that the rebels stole about all that he 
had, including his pocket-book, wliich contained only 
twenty-five cents. 

" But I wouldn't have cared for the rest," he added, 
''if they hadn't stolen my hat, which had three bullet 
holes it received at Chickamauga." 

He was finally paroled and sent north. On Saturday 
he was on his way from Camp Chase to his regiment, 
having been exchanged. General Rosecrans observed 
that the young soldier had chevrons on his arm, and 
asked the meaning of it. He said he was promoted to 
a corporal for shooting a rebel colonel at Chickamauga. 
The colonel was mounted, and stopped Johnny at some 
point on the field, crying, " Stop, you little Yankee 
devil." Johnny halted, bringing his Australian rifle to 



284 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

an "order," thus throwingthe colonel off his guard, cocked 
his piece (which he could easily do, being so short), and 
suddenly bringing his piece to his shoulder, fired, the 
colonel fulling dead with a bullet through his breast. 

The little fellow told his story simply and modestly, 
and the general determined to honor his bravery. He 
gave him the badge of the '' Roll of Honor," which Mrs. 
Saunders, wife of the host of the Burnet House, sewed 
upon Johnny's coat. His eyes glistened with pride as 
he looked upon the badge, and little Johnny seemed 
suddenly to have grown an inch or two taller, he stood 
so erect. He left his photograph with General Rosecrans, 
who exhibits it with pride. We ma}" hear again of 
Johnny Clem, the youngest soldier in the Army of the 
Cumberland. 



^' God's Flag:" — As one of the brigades of the reserve 
corps which came up to the rescue of General Thomas 
at Chickamauga was marching through the town of 
Athens, a bright-eyed girl of four sunnners was looking 
intently at the sturdy fellows as they tramped hy. When 
she saw the sun glancing through the stripes of dazzling 
red and on the golden stars of the flag, she exclaimed, 
clapping her hands : " Oh, pa ! pa ! God made that flag ! 
— see the stars ! — it's God's flag !" A shout, deep and 
loud, went up from that column, and many a bronzed 
veteran lifted his hat as he passed the sunny-haired 
child of bright and happy thoughts, resolving, if his good 
right arm availed any thing, God's flag should conquer. 
What a sweet and happy christening the glorious ensign 
received from those artless lips — "God's flag !"and so it is. 



DARING ENTLRPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 285 



HOW THE PRISONERS ESCAPED 

FROM THE RICHMOND JAIL — INCREDIBLE UNDERGROUND WORK 

FRIENDSHIP OF VIRGINIA NEGROES. 

About the beginning of the year 1864 the officers con- 
fined in Libby Prison conceived the idea of effecting 
their own exchange, and after the matter had been 
seriously discussed by some seven or eight of them, they 
undertook to dig for a distance toward a sewer running 
into a basin. This they proposed doing by commencing 
at a point in the ceUar near to the chimney. This 
celhir was immediately under the hospital, and was the 
receptacle for refuse straw, thrown from the beds when 
they were changed, and for other refuse matter. Above 
the hospital was a room for officers, and above that yet 
another room. The chimney ran through all these 
rooms, and prisoners who were in the secret, impro- 
vised a rope, and night after night let working parties 
down, who successfully prosecuted their excavating 
operations. 

The dirt was hid under the straw and other refuse 
matter in the cellar, and it was trampled do"\vn to pre- 
vent too great a bulk. When the working party had 
got to a considerable distance underground, it was found 
difficult to haul the dirt back by hand, and a spittoon, 
which had been furnished the officers in one of the 
rooms, was made to serve the purpose of a cart. A 
string was attached to it, and it was run in the tunnel, 
and as soon as filled was drawn out and deposited under 
the straw. But after hard work, and digging with 



286 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

finger nails, knives, and chisels, a number of feet, the 
working party found themselves stopped by piles driven 
in the ground. These were at least a foot in diameter. 
But they were not discouraged. Penknives, or any 
other articles that Mould cut, were called for, and after 
chipping, chipping, chipping, for a long time, the piles 
were severed, and the tunnelers commenced again, after 
a time reaching the sewer. 

But here an unexpected obstacle met their further pro- 
gress. The stench from the sewer and the flow of hlthy 
water was so great that one of the party fainted, and 
was dragged out more dead than alive, and the project 
in that direction had to be abandoned. The failure was 
communicated to a few others beside those who had first 
thought of escape, and then a party of seventeen, after 
viewing the premises and surroundings, concluded to 
tunnel under Carey street. On the opposite side of this 
street from the prison was a sort of carriage house or 
outhouse, and the project was to dig under the street, 
and emerge from under or near the house. There was 
a high fence around it, and the guard was outside of this 
fence. The prisoners then commenced to dig at the other 
side of the chimney, and after a few handfuls of dirt 
had been removed they found themselves stopped by a 
stone wall, which proved afterward to be three feet 
thick. The party were by no means daunted, and with 
pocket-knives and penknives they commenced operations 
upon the stone and mortar. 

After nineteen days and nights at hard work they 
again struck the earth beyond the wall, and pushed 
their work forward. Here, too (after they got some 
distance under ground^l, the friendly spittoon was brought 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 287 

into requisition, and the dirt was hauled out in small 
quantities. After digging for some days the question 
arose whether they had not reached the point aimed 
at; and in order if possible to test the matter, Captain 
Gallagher, of the Second Ohio Regiment, pretended that 
he had a box in the carriage house over the way, and 
desired to search it out. This carriage house, it is proper 
to state, was used as a receptacle for boxes and goods 
sent to the prisoners from the North, and the recipients 
were often allowed to go, under guard, across the street 
to secure their property. Captain Gallagher was allowed 
permission to go there, and as he walked across under 
guard, he, as well as he could, paced off the distance, 
and concluded that the street was about fifty feet wide. 

On the 6th or 7th of February the working party 
supposed they had gone a sufficient distance, and com- 
menced to dig upward. When near the surface they 
heard the rebel guards talking above them, and dis- 
covered they were two or three feet yet outside the 
fence. 

The displacing of a stone made considerable noise, 
and one of the sentinels called to his comrade and asked 
him what the noise meant. The guards, after listening 
a few minutes, concluded that nothing was wrong, and 
returned to their beats. The hole was stopped up by 
inserting into the crevice a pair of old pantaloons filled 
with straw, and bolstering the whole up with boards, 
which they secured from the floors, etc., of the prison. 
The tunnel was then continued some six or seven feet 
more, and when the working party supposed they were 
about ready to emerge to daylight, others in the prison 
were informed that there was a way now open for escape. 



288 DARIXG ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

One hundred and nine of the prisoners decided to make 
the attempt to get away. Others refused, fearing the 
consequences if they were recaptured. 

At half-past eight o'clock on the evening of the 9th 
the prisoners started out, Colonel Rose, of New York, 
leading the van. Before starting, the prisoners had 
divided themselves into squads of two, three, and four, 
and each squad was to take a different route, and after 
they were out were to push for the Union lines as fast 
as possible. It was the understanding that the working 
party were to have an hour's start of the other prison- 
ers, and, consequently, the rope-ladder in the cellar 
was drawn out. Before the expiration of the hour, 
however, the other prisoners became impatient, and 
were let down through the chimney successfully into 
the cellar. 

The aperture was so narrow that but one man could 
get through at a time, and each squad carried with them 
provisions in a haversack. At midnight a false alarm 
was created, and the prisoners made considerable noise 
in their quarters. Providentially, however, the guard 
suspected nothing wrong, and in a few moments the 
exodus was again commenced. Colonel Kendrick and 
his companions looked Avith some trepidation upon the 
movements of the fugitives, as some of them, exercising 
but little discretion, moved boldly out of the enclosure 
into the glare of the gaslight. Many of them were, 
however, in citizen's dress, and as all the rebel guards 
wore the United States uniform, but little suspicion 
could be excited, even if the fugitives had been accosted 
by a guard. 

Between one and two o'clock the lamps were extin- 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 289 

guislied in the streets, and then tlie exit was more 
safely accomplished. There were many officers who 
desired to leave, who were so weak and feeble that they 
were dragged through the tunnel by mere force, and 
carried to places of security, until such time as they 
would be able to move on their journey. At half-past 
two o'clock, Captain Joyce, Colonel Kendrick, and Lieu- 
tenant Bradford passed out in the order in which they 
are named, and as Colonel Kendrick emerged from the 
hole he heard the guard within a few feet of him sing 
out : '^ Post No. 7, half-past two in the morning and all 
is well." Lieutenant Bradford was intrusted with the 
provisions for this squad, and in getting through was 
obliged to leave his haversack behind him, as he could 
not get through with it upon him. 

Once out they proceeded up the street, keeping in the 
shade of the buildings, and passed eastwardly through 
the city. 

A description of the route pursued by this party, and 
of the tribulations through which they passed, will give 
some idea of the rough time they all had of it. Colonel 
Kendrick had, before leaving the prison, mapped out 
his course, and concluded that the best route to take 
was the one toward Norfolk or Fortress Monroe, as 
there were fewer rebel pickets in that direction. They 
therefore kept the York River railroad to the left, and 
moved toward the Chickahominy river. They passed 
through Boar Swamp, and crossed the road leading to 
Bottom Bridge. Sometimes they waded through mud 
and water almost up to their necks, and kept the Bot- 
tom Bridge road to their left, although at times they 

19 



290 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

could see and hear the cars travelling over the York 
River road. 

While passing through the swamp near the Chicka- 
hominy, Colonel Kendrick sprained his ankle and fell. 
Fortunate, too, was that fall for him and his party, 
for while he was lying there one of them chanced to 
look up, and saw in a direct line with them a swamp 
bridge, and in the dim outline they could perceive that 
parties with muskets were passing over the bridge. 
They therefore moved some distance to the south, and 
after passing through more of the swamp, reached the 
Chickahominy about four miles below Bottom Bridge. 
Here now was a difficulty. The river was only twenty 
feet wide, but it was very deep, and the refugees were 
worn out and fatigued. Chancing, however, to look up. 
Lieutenant Bradford saw that two trees had fallen on 
either side of the river, and that their branches were 
interlocked. By crawling up one tree and down the 
other, the fugitives reached the east bank of the Chicka- 
hominy. 

They subsequently learned from a friendly negro that, 
had they crossed the bridge they had seen, they would 
assuredly have been recaptured, for Captain Turner, the 
keeper of Libby Prison, had been out and posted guards 
there, and in fact had alarmed the whole country, and 
got the people up as a vigilant committee to capture the 
escaped prisoners. 

After crossing over this natural bridge they laid down 
on the ground and slept until sunrise on the morning of 
the 11th, when they continued on their way, keeping 
eastwardly as near as they could. Up to this time they 
had had nothing to eat, and were almost famished. 



DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 291 

About noon of the 11th they met several negroes, who 
gave them information as to the whereabouts of the rebel 
pickets, and furnished them with food. 

Acting under the advice of these friendly negroes, 
they remained quietly in the woods until darkness had 
set in, when they were furnished with a comfortable 
supper by the negroes, and after dark proceeded on their 
way, the negroes (who everywhere showed their friend- 
ship to the fugitives) having first directed them how to 
avoid the rebel pickets. That night they passed a camp 
of rebels, and could plainly see the smoke and camp 
fires. But their wearied feet gave out, and they were 
compelled to stop and rest, having only marched five 
miles that day. 

They started again at daylight on the 13th, and after 
moving awhile through the woods they saw a negro 
woman working in a field and called her to them. From 
her they received directions and were told that the rebel 
pickets had been about there looking for the fugitives 
from Libby. Here they laid down again, and resumed 
their journey when darkness set in, and marched five 
miles, but halted till the morning of the 14th, when the 
journey was resumed. 

At one point they met a negress in a field, and she 
told them that her mistress was a secesh woman, and 
that she had a son in the rebel army. The party, however, 
were exceedingly hungry, and they determined to secure 
some food. This they did by boldly approaching the 
house and, informing the mistress that they were fugi- 
tives from Norfolk, who had been driven out by Butler ; 
and the secesh sympathies of the woman were at once 
aroused, and she gave them of her substance, and started 



292 DARING ENTERPRISES OF OFFICERS AND MEN. 

them on their way, with directions how to avoid the 
Yankee sokliers, who occasionally scouted in that vicin- 
ity. This information was exceedingly valuable to the 
refugees, for by it they discovered the whereabouts of 
the Federal forces. 

When about fifteen miles from Williamsburg the party 
came upon the main road and found the tracks of a 
large body of cavalry. A piece of paper found by Cap- 
tain Jones satisfied him that they were Union cavalry ; 
but his companions were suspicious, and avoided the road 
and moved forward. At the " Burnt Ordinary" (about 
ten miles from Williamsburg) they awaited the return of 
the cavalry that had moved up the road, and from behind 
a fence corner, where they were secreted, the fugitives 
saw the flag of the Union, supported by a squadron of cav- 
alry, which proved to be a detachment of Colonel Spear's 
11th Pennsylvania Regiment, sent out for the purpose of 
picking up escaped prioners. Colonel Kendrick says 
his feelings at seeing the old flag are indescribable. 

At all points along the route the fugitives describe 
their reception by the negroes as most enthusiastic, and 
there was no lack of white people who sympathized with 
them and helped them on their way. 

In their escape the ofiicers were aided by citizens of 
Richmond ; not foreigners or the poor class only, but by 
natives and persons of wealth. They know their friends 
there, but very properly withhold any mention of their 
names. Of those who got out of Libby Prison there 
were a number of sick ones, who were cared for by 
Union people, and will eventually reach the Union lines 
through their aid. 



f^ffTjlj I 




T>j^Tirr III- 

iisroiDEivrTS 



ARMY LIFE U CA3IP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL 



MOTHER BICKERDYKE,"THE SOLDIERS' FRIEND." 

Among the many noble women who have contributed 
so largely to the comfort of our sick, wounded, and ex- 
hausted soldiers in the Western armies, there is none 
more deserving the title of the " Soldier's Friend" than 
Mrs. Bickerdyke. She is of humble origin, and of but 
moderate education, a widow, with two noble and beau- 
tiful little boys, somewhat more than forty years of age, 
we should judge, with a robust frame and great powers 
of endurance, and possesses a rough, stirring eloquence, 
and earnestness of manner which has proved very effec- 
tive in carrying measures on which she has set her 
heart. 

At the commencement of the war, she was, we have 
heard, housekeeper in a gentleman's family in Cleveland, 
but she commenced very early her labors of love and 
kindness among the sick and wounded men of the army, 
and continued them with ever increasing success till the 
close of the conflict. It has been one of her peculiar- 
ities that she devoted her attention exclusively or nearly 
so to the private soldiers. The officers, she said, had 

(293) 



294 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

enough to look after them ; but it was the men, poor 
fellows, with but a private's pay, a private's fare, and a 
private's dangers, to whom she was particularly called. 
They were dear to somebody, and she would be a mother 
to them. And throughout the war, she has contended 
stoutly and almost alwa3^s successfully for their rights 
and comfort. The soldiers all over the Western armies 
knew her and fairly idolized her, as well they might. 
But woe to the surgeon or assistant surgeon, the com- 
missary or quartermaster, whose neglect of his men and 
selfish disregard for their interests and needs came 
under her cognizance. For such a one she had no 
mercy, and in more instances than one, by the fierce 
torrent of her invective, or the more effective method of 
appealing to the commander of the army, with whom 
she always had great influence, she procured their dis- 
missal from the service. Her will was strong, and when 
she had determined to do a thing it would be carried 
through, whatever obstacles might present themselves ; 
yet while officers even of high rank stood ajDpalled and 
yielded to her commands, urged as they often were in a 
tone and manner which brooked no denial, she was 
gentle and tender as a mother to the common soldiers. 
The contrabands regarded her as almost a divinity, and 
would fly with unwonted alacrity to obey her commands. 
Her authority, however, great as it was, was used most 
beneficently; and with every day her influence was 
greater with the commanding generals, who saw, in her, 
an instrument of great good to the army. At Perry- 
ville she set the negro women to gathering the blankets 
and clothing left upon that bloody field, and such of the 
clothing of the slain and desperately wounded as could 



AEMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 295 

be spared, and having had it carefully washed and re- 
paired, distributed it to the wounded, who were in great 
need of additional clothing. The arms left on the field 
were also picked up by her corps of contrabands and 
delivered over to the Union quartermaster. Not long after 
she was put in charge of the Gayoso Hospital, in what 
was formerly the Gayoso Hotel, one of the largest hotels 
in Memphis. Here she was in all her glory. It was 
her ambition to make her hospital the best regulated, 
neatest, and most comfortable in Memphis or its vicinity, 
and this, in such a building, was not easy. She accom- 
plished it, however. It Avas usual in the hospitals there 
as elsewhere to employ convalescent soldiers as nurses, 
ward masters, etc., for the drudgery of the hospital ; and 
as these were often weak, and occasionally peevish and 
ill-tempered from their own past or present sufferingvS, 
it may be imagined that they did not always make the 
best of nurses. Mrs. Bickerdyke substituted negro 
women for these duties, and the improvement was 
speedily manifest. Herself a skilful and admirable 
cook, she superintended the preparation of all the food 
for the sick or wounded, and often administered it in 
person. Nothing displeased her so much as any neglect 
of the men on the part of the surgeon or assistant 
surgeons. On one occasion, visiting one of the wards 
at nearly eleven o'clock A. M., where the men were very 
badly wounded, she found that the assistant surgeon- 
in-charge, who had been out "on a spree" the night 
before and had slept very late, had not yet made out 
the special diet list for the ward, and the men, faint and 
hungry, had had no breakfast. She at once denounced 
him in the strongest terms. 



296 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

He came in meanwhile, and on his inquiry, " Hoity 
to'ity, what's the matter?" she turned upon him with, 
" Matter enough, you miserable scoundrel ! Here these 
men, any one of them worth a thousand of you, are 
suflered to starve and die, because you want to be off 
upon a drunk ! Pull ofi' your shoulder-straps," she 
continued, as he tried feebly to laugh off her reproaches, 
"pull off your shoulder-straps, for you shall not stay in 
the army a week longer." The surgeon still laughed, 
but he turned pale, for he knew her power. She was as 
good as her word. Within three days, she had caused 
his discharge. He went to headquarters, and asked to 
be reinstated. General Sherman, who was then in 
command, listened patiently, and then inquired who 
had caused his discharge. " I was discharged in conse- 
quence of misrepresentations," answered the surgeon, 
evasively. " But who caused your discharge ?" persisted 
the general. '' Why," said the surgeon, hesitatingly, 
" I suppose it was that woman, that Mrs. Bickerdyke." 
" Oh," said Sherman. " Well, if it was her, I can do 
nothing for you. She ranks me." 

Some months later, the chief surgeon of the hospital, 
a martinet in discipline, was dissatisfied at Mrs. Bicker- 
dyke's innovations, though he acknowledged the admira- 
ble order and neatness of the hospital ; he knew that 
she valued highly her well trained corps of negro women 
employed as nurses, etc., in the hospital, and he, there- 
fore, procured from the medical director an order that 
none but convalescent soldiers should be employed as 
nurses in the Memphis hospitals. The order was to take 
effect at nine o'clock the following morning. Mrs. Bick- 
erdyke heard of it just at night. The Gayoso Hospital 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 297 

was three fourths of a mile from headquarters ; it was 
raining heavily, and the mud was deep ; but nothing 
daunted, she sallied out, having first had the form of an 
order drawn up permitting the employment of contra- 
bands as nurses at the Gayoso Hospital. Arrived at the 
headquarters, she was told that the commanding general, 
Sherman's successor, was ill, and could not be seen. She 
understood very well that his illness was only intoxica- 
tion, and insisted that she must and would see him, and, 
in spite of the objections of the staff officers, she forced 
her way to his room, and, finding him in bed, roused 
him partially, propped him up, put a pen in his hand, 
and made him sign the order she had brought. This 
done, she returned to her hospital, and the next morn- 
ing, when the surgeon and the medical director came 
round to enforce the order of the latter, she flourished in 
their faces the order of the commanding general, per- 
mitting her to retain her contrabands. 

While in charge of this hospital, she made several 
journeys to Chicago, and other cities of the northwest, 
to procure aid for the suffering soldiers. The first of 
these was characteristic of her energy and resolution. 
She had found great difficulty in procuring, in the vicinity 
of Memphis, the milk and butter needed for her hospital, 
and the other hospitals had also been but scantily sup- 
plied. She resolved to have a dairy for the hospitals, 
and going among the farmers of central Illinois she 
begged two hundred cows, and as eggs were required in 
large quantities she obtained also, by her solicitations, a 
thousand hens, and returned in triumph with her drove 
_ of cows and her flock of hens. On reaching Memphis 
her cattle and fowls made such a lowing and cackling 



29S AKMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND IIOSFITAL. 

that the rebel sympathizing inhabitants of the city 
enteivd their coniphiints, and tJiio commanding general 
assigned her an ishind in the Mississippi opposite the 
cit}-, where her dairy and hennery were comfortably 
accommodated. 

We are not certain whether it was on this journey or 
the next that, at the request of Mrs. Ilage and Mrs. 
Lovemore, of the Northwestern Sanitary Commission, 
she visited Milwaukee. The Ladies' Aid Society of that 
city had memorialized the Chamber of Commerce of the 
city to make an appropriation to aid them in their 
efforts for helphig the soldiers, and were that day to 
receive the repl}^ of the Chamber. Mrs. Bickerdyke 
went with the ladies, and the President of the Chamber, 
in his blandest tones, inlbrmed them that the Chamber 
of Commerce had considered their request, but that they 
had expended so much in the fitting out of a regiment, 
that they thought they must be excused from making 
any contributions to the Ladies' Aid Society. Mrs. 
Bickerdyke asked the privilege of replying. For half 
an hour she held them enchained, while she described, 
in simple but eloquent language, the life of the soldier, 
his privations and sufterings, the patriotism M'hich ani- 
mated him, and led him to endure, without murmuring, 
hardships, sickness, wounds, and even death itself, for 
his country. She contrasted this with the sordid love 
of gain M'liich not only shrunk from these sacrifices in 
person, but grudged the pittance necessary to alleviate 
them, and made the trifling amount which it had already 
contributed an excuse for making no further contribu- 
tions, and closed with this forcible denunciation: "And 
you, merchants and rich men of Milwaukee, living at 



ARMY UVi: IN CAMP, VlKLl), AND HOSPITAL. 299 

your ease, dressed in youi- broadcloth, knowing little and 
caring Ickh for the BufleringH of the soldiers, from hunger 
and thirst, from cold and nakedness, from sickness and 
wounds, from pain and death, all incurred that you may 
roll in wealth, and your homes and your little ones be 
safe. You will refuse to give aid to these poor soldiers, 
becadse, forsooth, you gave a few dollars some time ago 
to fit out a regiment. Shame on you — you are not 
men — you are cowards — go over to Canada — this country 
has no place for such creatures !" The Chamber of Com- 
merce was not prepared for such a rebuke, and they re- 
considered their action, and made an appropriation at 
once to the Ladies' Aid Society. 

When Kosecrans moved forward from Murfreesboro 
in June, 1863, Mrs. Bickerdyke, tired of the confine- 
ment of the hospital, joined the army in the field again, 
and amid all the hardships and exposures of the field, 
ministered to the sick and wounded. Cooking for them 
in the open air, under the burning sun and the heavy 
dews, she was exposed to disease, but her admirable 
constitution enabled her to endure fatigue and exposure, 
better even than most of the soldiers. Though neat and 
cleanly in person, she was wholly indifferent to the 
attractions of dress, and amid the flying sparks from her 
fires in the open air, her calico dresses would often take 
fire, and as she expressed it, "the soldiers would put 
her cmt ;" i. e., extinguish the sparks which were burn- 
ing her dresses, till they became completely riddled. 

It was with her clothing in this plight that she again 
visited Chicago, in the summer of 1863, and the ladies 
of the Sanitary Commission replenished her wardrobe, 
and soon after sent her a box of excellent clothing for 



300 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

her own use. Of this, some articles, the gift of those 
who admired her earnest devotion to the interests of the 
soldier, were richly wrought and trimmed. Among 
them were two beautiful night-dresses, trimmed with 
ruffles and lace. On receiving the box, Mrs. Bickcrdyke, 
who was again for the time in charge of a hospital, re- 
serving for herself only three or four of the plainest and 
cheapest articles, traded oft' the remainder, except the 
two night-dresses, with the rebel w^omen of the vicinity, 
for butter, eggs, and other delicacies for her sick soldiers ; 
and as she purposed going to Cairo soon, and thought 
that the night-dresses would bring more for the same 
purpose in Kentucky, she reserved them to be traded on 
her journey. On her way, however, at one of the towns 
on the Mobile and Ohio railroad (Jackson, we believe), 
she found two poor fellows who had been discharged 
from some of our hospitals with their Avounds not yet 
fully healed, and their exertions had caused them to 
break out afresh. Here they were, then, in a miserable 
shanty, sick, bleeding, hungry, penniless, and with only 
their soiled clothing. Mrs. Bickerdyke at once took 
them in hand. Washing their wounds and stanching 
the blood, she tore off" the lower portions of the night- 
dresses for bandages, and as the men had no shirts, she 
arraj^ed them in the remainder of these dresses, ruffles, 
lace, and all. The soldiers modestly demurred a little 
at the ruffles and lace, but Mrs. Bickerdyke suggested 
to them that if any inquiries were made, they could say 
that they had been plundering the secessionists. 

Visiting Chicago at this time, she was again invited 
to go to Milwaukee, and went with the ladies to the 
Chamber of Commerce. Here she was very politely re- 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 301 

ceived, and the President informed her that the Chamber, 
feeling deeply impressed with the good work she and the 
other ladies were doing in behalf of the soldiers, had 
voted a contribution of twelve hundred dollars a month 
to the " Ladies' Aid Society." Mrs. Bickerdyke was not, 
however, disposed to tender them the congratulations to 
which perhaps they believed themselves entitled for 
their liberality. " You believe yourselves very generous, 
no doubt, gentlemen," she said, " and think that because 
you have given this pretty sum, you are doing all that 
is required of you. But I have in my hospital a hun- 
dred poor soldiers, who have done more than any of 
you. Who of you would contribute a leg, an arm, or 
an eye, instead of what you have done ? How many 
hundred or thousand dollars would you consider an 
equivalent for either ? Don't deceive yourselves, gentle- 
men. The poor soldier who has given an arm, a leg, or 
an eye to his country (and many of them have given 
more than one), has given more than you have, or can. 
How much more, then, he who has given his life ? No ! 
gentlemen, you must set your standard higher yet, or 
you will not come up to the full measure of liberality in 
giving." 

Mrs. Bickerdyke was on the field in the battles of 
November, 1863, around Chattanooga, and in the hospitals 
of Chattanooga during the winter. In May, 1864, she 
and Mrs. Porter, of Chicago, both in the service of 
the Northwestern Sanitary Commission, followed Sher- 
man's Army in the march to Atlanta; being present 
at every battle, and ministering to the wounded and 
the exhausted soldiers. Her great executive ability 
had fair play here, and with few or none of the ordinary 



302 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

apparatus for cooking, or preparing needed dishes for 
the sick, she would manage to make barrels of delicious 
coffee, manufacture panada and gruel out of hard tack, 
and other food for the sick from the most unpromising 
materials. 

It is said that soon after General Grant took com- 
mand at Chattanooga, in the autumn of 1863, she 
visited his headquarters, and in her rough, blunt way, 
said to him, " Now, General, don't be a fool. You want 
your men to do a great deal of hard fighting, but the 
surgeons here, in the hospitals, are neglecting them 
shamefully, and you will lose hundreds of men who 
would do you good service unless you see to it yourself. 
Disguise yourself so that the surgeons or men won't 
know you, and go around to the hospitals and see for 
yourself how the men are neglected." 

"But, Mrs. Bickerdyke," said the general, "that is 
the business of my medical director, he must attend to 
that. I can't see to every thing in person." 

" Well," was her reply, " leave it to him if you think 
best ; but if you do, you will lose your men." 

The general made no promises, but a night or two 
later the hospitals were visited by a stranger, who made 
very particular inquiries, and within a week nearly 
half a dozen surgeons were dismissed, and more efficient 
men put in their places. 

After the capture of Atlanta, Mrs. Bickerdyke re- 
turned northward, stopping for a time, we believe, at 
Nashville. In January, 1865, she went to Savannah to 
superintend one of the hospitals there. 

Generous to a fault, Mrs. Bickerdyke has never been 
influenced, even in the slightest degree, by mercenary 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL' 303 

motives. Much of her service has been rendered without 
fee or reward, and when the necessity of providing 
for the care and education of her boys has compelled 
her to receive compensation, it has been only in such 
amount as would suffice for that purpose. Yet her 
eminent services, many of them such as none but her- 
self could have rendered, richly deserve a noble testi- 
monial. 



The Romance of War. — The following order is said 
to have originated at the headquarters of that correct 
disciplinarian, Major-General Rosecrans : — 

"Headquarters Department of the Cumberland, April 17, 1863. 

"General: — The general commanding directs me to 
call your attention to a flagrant outrage committed in 
your command — a person having been admitted inside 
your lines without a pass and in violation of orders. 
The case is one which calls for your personal attention, 
and the general commanding directs that you deal with 
the offending party or parties according to law. 

" The medical director reports that an orderly sergeant 

in Brigadier-General 's division was to-day delivered 

of a hahy — which is in violation of all military law and 
of the army regulations. No such case has been known 
since the days of Jupiter. 

" You will apply the proper punishment in this case, 
and a remedy to prevent a repetition of the act." 



304 AfeMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

THE DEATH OF JOHN, 

THE WEST VIRGINIA BLACKSMITH. 

Miss L. M. Alcott, the accomplished daughter of A. 
B. Alcott, the Concord philosopher, and the bosom 
friend of Ralph Waldo Emerson, was for a time a nurse 
in one of the hospitals for the wounded in the vicinity 
of Washington, D. C, She subsequently published a 
little volume, entitled *' Hospital Sketches," in which 
the life, heroism, and death of some of our brave fellows, 
wounded in the struggle for the nation's life, are por- 
trayed with a graphic power which has never been sur- 
passed. Among these descriptions of life and death in 
the hospital, none surpasses, in beauty and pathos, the 
story of John, the West Virginia Blacksmith. Miss 
Alcott is in one of the wards of the hospital, ministering 
to the sick, when a messenger from another ward comes 
in with the expected yet dreaded message : 

*' John is going, ma'am, and wants to see you if you 
can come." 

'^ The moment this boy is asleep ; tell him so, and let 
me know if I am in danger of being too late.'' 

The messenger departed, and while I quieted poor 
Shaw, I thought of John. He came in a day or two 
after the others; and one evening, when I entered my 
''pathetic room," I found a lately emptied bed occupied 
by a large, fiiir man, with a line face, and the serenest 
eyes I ever met. One of the earlier comers had often 
spoken of a friend who had remained behind that those 
apparently worse wounded than himself might reach a 



ARMY J.ll't; IX CAMP, FIELD, AND IIOSiTTAL. oOo 

shelter first. It seemed a David and Jonathan sort of 
friendship. The man fretted for liis mate, and was 
never tired of praising John — his courage, sobriety, »eU- 
denial, and unfailing kindliness of heart; always wind- 
ing up with : "' He's an out an' out fine feller, ma'am ; 
you see if he aint." 

I had some curiosity to behold this piece of excel- 
lence, and Avhen he came, watched him lor a night or 
two, before I made friends with him ; for, to tell the 
truth, I was a little afraid of the stately looking man. 
whose bed had to be lengthened to accommodate his 
commanding stature; who seldom spoke, uttered no 
complaint, asked no sympathy, but tranquilly observed 
what went on about him; and, as he lay high upon his 
pillows, no picture of dying statesman or warrior was 
ever fuller of real dignity than this Virginia blacksmith. 
A most attractive face he had, framed in brown hair 
and beard, comely featured and full of vigor, as yet un- 
subdued by pain; thoughtful and often beautifully mild 
while watching the afflictions of others, as if entirely 
forgetful of his own. His mouth was g.'ave and firm, 
wdth plenty of will and courage in its lines, but a smile 
could make it as sweet as any woman's ; and his eyes 
were child's eyes, looking one fairly in the face with a 
clear, straightforward glance, which promised w^ell for 
such as placed their faith in him. He seemed to cling 
to life as if it were rich in duties and delights, and he 
had learned the secret of content. The only time I 
saw his composure disturbed, was when my surgeon 
brought another to examine John, who scrutinized their 
faces with an anxious look, asking of the elder: "Do 
you think I shall pull through, sir?" "I hope so, my 

20 



306 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

man." And, as the two passed on, John's eye still fol- 
lowed them, with an intentness which w^ould have won 
a clearer answer from them, had they seen it. A mo- 
mentary shadow flitted over hia face: then came the 
usual serenity, as if, in that brief eclipse, he had ac- 
knowledged the existence of some hard possibility, and, 
asking nothing yet hoping all things, left the issue in 
Grod's hands, with that submission which is true piety. 

The next night, as I went my rounds with Dr. P., 
I happened to ask which man in the room probably 
suffered most ; and, to my great surprise, he glanced at 
John : 

" Every breath he drawls is like a stab ; for the ball 
pierced the left lung, broke a rib, and did no end of 
damage here and there ; so the poor lad can find 
neither forgctfulness nor ease, because he must lie on 
his w^ounded back or suffocate. It will be a hard 
struggle, and a long one, for he possesses great vitality ; 
but even his temperate life can't save him ; I wish it 
could." 

•^^ You don't mean he must die, doctor?" 

" Bless you, there's not the slightest hope for him ; 
and you'd better tell him so before long ; women have a 
way of doing such things comfortably, so I leave it 
to you. He wont last more than a day or two, at 
furthest." 

I could have sat down on the spot and cried heartily, 
if I had not learned the wisdom of bottling up one's 
tears for leisure moments. Such an end seemed very 
hard for such a man, when half a dozen worn-out, 
worthless bodies round him, were gathering up the rem- 
nants of wasted lives, to lingel' on for years, perhaps, bur- 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 307 

dens to others, daily reproaches to themselves. The 
army needed men like John, earnest, brave, and faith- 
ful ; fighting for liberty and justice with both heart and 
hand, true soldiers of the Lord. I could not give him 
up so soon, or think with any patience of so excellent a 
nature robbed of its fulfilment, and blundered into eter- 
nity by the rashness or stupidity of those at whose 
hands so many lives may be required. It was an easy 
thing for Dr. P. to say : ^' Tell him he must die," but a 
cruelly hard thing to do, and by no means as "coraforta-. 
ble" as he politely suggested. I had not the heart to do it 
then, and privately indulged the hope that some change 
for the better might take place, in spite of gloomy 
prophecies, so rendering my task unnecessary. A few 
minutes later, as I came in again, with fresh rollers, 1 
saw John sitting erect, with no one to support him, 
while the surgeon dressed his back. I had never 
hitherto seen it done; for, having simpler wounds to 
attend to, and knowing the fidelity of the attendant, 
I had left John to him, thinking it might be more 
agreeable and safe; for both strength and experience 
were needed in his case. I had forgotten that the strong 
man might long for the gentler tendance of a woman's 
hands, the sympathetic magnetism of a woman's pres- 
ence, as well as the feebler souls about him. The doc- 
tor's words caused me to reproach myself with neglect, 
not of any real duty, perhaps, but of those little cares 
and kindnesses that solace homesick spirits, and make 
the heavy hours pass easier. John looked lonely and 
forsaken just then, as he sat with bent head, hands 
folded on his knee, and no outward sign of suffering, 
till, looking nearer, I saw great tears roll down and drop 



308 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

upon the floor. It was a new sight there ; for, though I 
had seen many suffer, some swore, some groaned, most 
endured silently, but none wept. Yet it did not seem 
weak, only very touching, and straightway my fear 
vanished, my heart opened wide and took him in, as 
gathering the bent head in my arms, as freely as if he 
had been a little child, I said, " Let me help you bear 
it, John." 

Never, on any human countenance, have I seen so 
swift and beautiful a look of gratitude, surprise, and 
comfort, as that which answered me more eloquently 
than the whispered — 

" Thank you, ma'am ; this is right good ! this is what 
I wanted !"' 

'^Then why not ask for it before?" 

" I didn't like to be a trouble ; you seemed so busy, 
and I could manage to get on alone." 

'' You shall not want it any more, John." 

Nor did he ; for now I understood the wistful look 
that sometimes Ibllowed me, as I went out, after a brief 
pause beside his bed, or merely a passing nod, while 
busied with those who seemed to need me more than he, 
because more urgent in their demands ; now I knew that 
to him, as to so many, I was the poor substitute for 
mother, wife, or sister, and in his eyes no stranger, but 
a friend who hitherto had seemed neglectful; for, in his 
modesty he had never guessed the truth. This was 
changed now ; and, through the tedious operation of 
probing, bathing, and dressing his wounds, he leaned 
against me, holding my hand fast, and, if pain wrung 
further tears from him, no one saw them fall but me. 
When he was laid down again, I hovered about him, in 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 309 

a remorseful state of mind that would not let me rest, 
till I had bathed his face, brushed his ^' bonny brown 
hair," set all things smooth about him, and laid a knot 
of heath and heliotrope on his clean pillow. While 
doing this, he watched me with the satisfied expression 
I so liked to see ; and when I offered the little nosegay 
held it carefully in his great hand, smoothed a ruffled 
leaf or two, surveyed and smelt it with an air of genuine 
delight, and lay contentedly regarding the glimmer of 
the sunshine on the green. Although the manliest man 
among my forty, he said, " Yes, ma'am," like a little 
boy ; received suggestions for his comfort with the quick 
smile that brightened his whole face ; and now and 
then, as I stood tidying the table by his bed, I felt him 
softly touch my gown, as if to assure himself that I was 
there. Any thing more natural and frank I never saw, 
and found this brave John as bashful as brave, yet 
full of excellencies and fine aspirations, which, having 
no power to express themselves in words, seemed to 
have bloomed into his character and made him what 
he was. 

After that night, an hour of each evening that re- 
mained to him was devoted to his ease or pleasure 
He could not talk much, for breath was precious, and 
he spoke in whispers ; but from occasional conversa- 
tions, I gleaned scraps of private history which only 
added to the affection and respect I ie\t for him. Once 
he asked me to write a letter, and as I settled pen and 
paper, I said, with an irrepressible glimmer of feminine 
curiosity, ''Shall it be addressed to wife or mother, 
John?" 

" Neither, ma'am ; I've got no wife, and will write to 



310 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

mother myself when I get better. Did you think I was 
married because of this ?" he asked, touching a plain ring 
he wore, and often turned thoughtfully on his finger 
when he lay alone. 

'' Partly that, but more from a settled sort of look you 
have, a look which young men seldom get until they 
marry." 

"I don't know that; but I'm not so very young, 
ma'am, thirty in May, and have been what you might 
call settled this ten years ; for mother s a widow, I'm the 
oldest child she has, and it wouldn't do for me to marry 
until Lizzy has a home of her own, and Laurie's learned 
his trade ; for we're not rich, and I must be father to 
the children and husband to the dear old woman, if I 
can." 

" No doubt but you are both, John ; yet how came you 
to go to war, if you felt so ? Wasn't enlisting as bad as 
marrying?" 

'' No, ma'am, not as I see it, for one is helping my 
neighbor, the other pleasing myself. I went because I 
couldn't help it. I didn't want the glory or the pay ; I 
wanted the right thing done, and people kept saying the 
ttien who were in earnest ought to fight. I was in earnest, 
the Lord knows ! but I held ofi" as long as I could, not 
knowing which was my duty ; mother saw the case, 
gave me her ring to keep me steady, and said '• Go :' so 
I went." 

A short story and a simple one, but the man aud the 
mother were portrayed better than pages of fine writing 
could have done it. 

" Do you ever regret that you came, when you lie 
here suifering so much ?" 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 311 

" Never, ma'am ; I haven't helped a great deal, but 
I've shown I was willing to give my life, and perhaps 
I've got to ; but I don't blame anybody, and if it was to 
do over again, I'd do it. I'm a little sorry I wasn't 
wounded in front ; it looks cowardly to be hit in the 
back, but I obeyed orders, and it don't matter in the end, 
I know." 

Poor John ! it did not matter now, except that a shot 
in front might have spared the long agony in store for 
him. He seemed to read the thoughts that troubled me, 
as he spoke so hopefully when there was no hope, for he 
suddenly added : 

" This is my first battle ; do they think it's going to 
be my last ?" 

" I'm afraid they do, John." 

It was the hardest question I had ever been called 
upon to answer ; doubly hard with those clear eyes fixed 
on mine, forcing a truthful answer by their own truth. 
He seemed a little startled at first, pondered over the 
fateful fact a moment, tfien shook his head, with a 
glance at the broad chest and muscular limbs stretched 
out before him : 

" I'm not afraid, but it's difficult to believe all at once. 
I am so strong it don't seem possible for such a little 
wound to kill me." 

Merry Mercutio's dying words glanced through my 
memory as he spoke : "^'Tis not so deep as a well, nor 
so wide as a church door, but 'tis enough." And John 
would have said the same could he have seen the omi- 
nous black holes between his shoulders : he never had ; 
and, seeing the ghastly sights about him, could not be- 



312 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

lieve his own wound more fatal than these, for all the 
suffering it caused him. 

'' Shall I write to your mother, now ?" I asked, think- 
ing that these sudden tidings might change all plans 
and purposes ; but they did not ; for the man received 
the order of the Divine Commander to march with the 
same unquestioning obedience with which the soldier 
had received that of the human one, doubtless remember- 
ing that the first led him to life and the last to death. 

'^ No, ma'am ; to Laurie just the same ; he'll break it 
to her best, and I'll add a line to her myself when you 
get done." 

So I wrote the letter which he dictated, finding it 
better than any I had sent ; for, though here and there 
a little ungrammatical or inelegant, each sentence came 
to me briefly worded, but most expressive ; full of ex- 
cellent counsel to the boy, tenderly bequeathing " mother 
and Lizzie" to his care, and bidding him good-by in 
words the sadder for their simplicity. He added a few 
lines, with steady hand, and, as I sealed it, said, with a 
patient sort of sigh, '' I hope the answer will come in 
time for me to see it;" then, turning away his face, laid 
the flowers against his lips, as if to hide some quiver of 
emotion at the thought of such a sudden sundering of 
all the dear home ties. 

These things had happened two days before ; now 
John was dying, and the letter had not come. I had 
been summoned to many death-beds in my life, but to 
none that made my heart ache as it did then, since my 
mother called me to watch the departure of a spirit akin 
to this in its gentleness and patient strength. As I 
went in, John stretched out both hands : 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 313 

" I knew you'd come ! I guess I'm moving on, 
ma'am." 

He was ; and so rapidly that, even while he spoke, 
over his face I saw the gray vail falling that no human 
hand can lift. I sat down by him, wiped the drops 
from his forehead, stirred the air about him Avith the 
slow wave of a fan, and waited to help him die. He 
stood in sore need of help — and I could do so little ; for, 
as the doctor had foretold, the strong body rebelled 
against death, and fought every inch of the way, forcing 
him to draw each breath with a spasm, and clench his 
hands with an imploring look, as if he asked, " How 
long must I endure this and be still !" For hours he 
suffered dumbly, without a moment's respite, or a mo- 
ment's murmuring ; his limbs grew cold, his face damp, 
his lips white, and again and again he tore the cover- 
ing off his breast, as if the lightest weight added to his 
agony ; yet through it all his eyes never lost their per- 
fect serenity, and the man's soul seemed to sit therein, 
undaunted by the ills that vexed his flesh. 

One by one the men woke, and round the room 
appeared a circle of pale faces and watchful eyes, full of 
awe and pity ; for, though a stranger, John was beloved 
by all. Each man there had wondered at his patience, 
respected his piety, admired his fortitude, and now 
lamented his hard death ; for the influence of an upright 
nature had made itself deeply felt, even in one little 
week. Presently, the Jonathan who so loved this 
comely David came creeping from his bed for a last 
look and word. The kind soul was full of trouble, as 
the clioke in his voice, the grasp of his hand, betrayed ; 



314 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

but there were no tears, and the farewell of the friends 
was the more touching for its brerity. 

" Old boy, how are you ?" faltered the one. 

" Most through, thank heaven !" whispered the other. 

" Can I say or do any thing for you anywheres ?" 

" Take my things home, and tell them that I did my 
best." 

"I will! I will!" 

'' Good-by, Ned." 

" Good-by, John, good-by !" 

They kissed each other, tenderly as women, and so 
parted, for poor Ned could not stay to see his comrade 
die. For a little while, there was no sound in the room 
but the drip of water from a stump or two and John's 
distressful gasps, as he slowly breathed his life away. I 
thought him nearly gone, and had just laid down the 
fan, believing its help to be no longer neded, when sud- 
denly he rose up in his bed, and cried out with a bitter 
cry that broke the silence, sharply startling every one 
with its agonized appeal : 

" For God's sake, give me air !" 

It was the only cry pain or death had wrung from 
him, the only boon he had asked ; and none of us could 
grant it, for all the airs that blew were useless now. 
Dan Hung up the window. The first red streak of dawn 
was warming the gray east, a herald of the coming sun ; 
John saw it, and with the love of light which lingers in 
us to the end, seemed to read in it a sign of hope of help, 
for over his whole face there broke that mysterious 
expression, brighter than any smile, which often comes 
to eyes that look their last. He laid himself gently 
down, and stretchin;;' out his stron"; risjht arm, as if to 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 315 

grasp and bring the blessed air to his Hps in a fuller flow, 
lapsed into a merciful unconsciousness, which assured us 
that for him suffering was forever past. He died then ; 
for, though the heavy breaths still tore their way up for 
a little longer, they were but the weaves of an ebbing 
tide that beat unfelt against the wreck, which an immor- 
tal voyager had deserted with a smile. He never spoke 
again, but to the end held my hand close, so close that 
when he was asleep at last, I could not draw it away. 
Dan helped me, warning me, as he did so, that it w^as 
unsafe for dead and living flesh to lie so long together; 
but though my hand was strangely cold and stiff,, and 
four white marks remained across its back, even when 
warmth and color had returned elsewhere, I could not 
but be glad that through its touch, the presence of human 
sympathy, perhaps, had lightened that hard hour. 

When they had made him ready for the grave, John 
lay in state for half an hour, a thing which seldom hap- 
pened in that busy place ; but a universal sentiment of 
reverence and affection seemed to fill the hearts of all 
w4io had known or heard of him ; and when the rumor 
of liis death went through the house, always astir, many 
came to see him, and I felt a tender sort of pride in my 
lost patient ; for he looked a most heroic figure, lying 
there stately and still as the statue of some young knight 
asleep upon his tomb. The lovely expression which so 
often beautifies dead faces, soon replaced the marks of 
pain, and I longed for those who loved him best to see 
him when half an hour's acquaintance with Death had 
made them friends. As we stood looking at him, the 
ward master handed me a letter, saying it had been for- 
gotten the night lx?fore. It was John's letter, come just 



31 C ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

an hour too late to gladden the eyes that had longed and 
looked for it so eagerly : yet he had it; for, after I had 
cut some brown locks for his mother, and taken off the 
ring to send her, telling how well the talisman had done 
its work, I kissed this good son for her sake, and laid 
the letter in his hand, still folded as when I drew my 
own away, feeling that its place was there, and making 
myself happy with the thought, that even in his solitary 
place in the " Government Lot," he would not be with- 
out some token of the love which makes life beautiful 
and outlives death. Then I left him, glad to have known 
so genuine a man, and carrying with me an enduring 
memory of the brave Viginia blacksmith, as he lay 
serenely waiting for the dawn of that long day whi(^.h 
knows no night. 



ROBINSON, THE WOUNDED SOLDIER. 

Miss Dunlap, a Philadelphia lady, who devoted her- 
self with great assiduity to the care of the wounded sol- 
diers in the hospitals, which were so numerous around 
that city, has related some incidents of her experience 
in the hospitals in a most charming volume, entitled 
" Notes of Hospital Life," a work deserving of much 
wider circulation than it received. 

Among these incidents there is perhaps none more 
touching than those she relates concerning Robinson, a 
soldier of the Army of the Potomac, wounded at Fan* 
Oaks, May 31, 1862, and whom soon after that battle 
she found in one of the wards of the hospital she was 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 317 

most accustomed to visit, with his arm bandaged from 
shoulder to finger-tip, and who was whistling a bright, 
cheerful tune in a voice of uncommon sweetness. 
Coming up to him, she said, '' I am glad you can 
whistle ; it shows you are not suffering so much as I 
feared when I saw your bandages." 

He smiled, but said nothing ; • and she noticed, as she 
came closer, that large drops of perspiration were stand- 
ing in beads upon his brow ; his one free hand was 
tiglitly clenched, and a nervous tremor ran over his 
whcle frame. 

One of the patients in a neighboring bed, who had 
become somewhat acquainted with Miss Dunlap, now 
spoke : 

''Ah, miss, you don't know Robinson yet; he's a new 
fellow, and we all laugh at him here ; he says when the 
pain's just so bad he can't bear it nohow, he tries to 
whistle with all his might, and he finds it does him 
good." 

" Whether," says Miss Dunlap, " from the suspension 
of this novel remedy for acute suifering, or a sudden in- 
crease of pain, I cannot tell ; but, as I turn to Robinson 
for a confirmation of this singular statement, the large 
tears are in his eyes, and roll slowly down his cheeks. 
He tries to smile, however, and says : 

'' 'Oh, yes; it does help me wonderfully; it kind of 
makes me forget the pain, and think I'm at home again, 
where I'm always whistling. Nothing like keeping up 
a good heart. It don't always ache like this — only in 
spells — it'll stop after a bit. Never mind me, ma'am, 
I'm not half so bad as poor Darlington there.' " 

The gentle, unselfish, and patient sufierer who could 



318 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

thus attciript to subdue and control the anguish of his 
wounds, by whistling up the bright memories of home, 
soon became a prime favorite in the hospital, where he 
wa.s long detained by the severity of his wounds. 
"His left arm," says Miss Dunlap, "was terribly shat- 
tered, just below the shoulder, and injuring the shoul- 
der blade ; and for a long time his case was a very criti- 
cal one, requiring the most close and constant watching. 
He was entirely confined to his bed for many tedious 
weeks, and yet I know not why I should apply that 
term to the time so passed ; for they were certainly 
never ' tedious' to us, although we felt great anxiety for 
him, and we never had any proof that they were so to 
him. Patient and uncomplaining, the only sign he gave 
of suffering, save the contraction of his brow, was the 
constant effort to whistle away the pain, and his moans 
in his sleep. There was always something inexpressi- 
bly sad to me in these moans ; it seemed as though 
the body were compensating itself, during sleep, for 
the powerful restraint imposed upon it during waking 
hours. 

'' I have rarely seen greater unselfishness in any one. 
During his illness, it was all-important to keep up his 
strength, for as the wound began to heal, one abscess 
followed another, and kept him much prostrated ; we, 
therefore, tried to tempt his appetite in every way; and 
often, when I have brought him some delicacy, he has 
pointed me to some one near him, with the words : 
' Please give it to him ; he cares for such things more 
than I do.' 

" His love for his mother, and anxiety to spare her 
all unnecessary suffering on his account, was very 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 319 

beautiful, and attracted me to him from the first. His 
weakness was so great that he was utterly unable, for a 
long time, even to feed himself, and, of course, could not 
write. When I offered to do so for him, he declined, 
saying, that she knew, through a friend, that he was 
here ; and that the sight of a strange hand, with the 
conviction that it would bring that he was too ill to 
write for himself, would be worse for her than to wait for 
a little while. 

''One day, some time afterward, I came to his bed- 
side, and found a paper lying there with a few unmean- 
ing scratches, as I thought, upon it ; he held them up 
to me. 

'' ' The best I could do.' 

'''What were you trying to do?' said I; 'did you 
mean that for drawing ?' 

"A look of intense disappointment passed over his 
face. 

" ' I was afraid so,' said he ; ' then it would frighten 
her, as I thought. I meant it for my signature, and I've 
looked at it, and looked at it, and hoped it didn't look 
as bad as I thought, at first; but if you ask what I'm 
trying to do, when you see it, the game's up, and it's no 
use.' 

" I assured him that such a signature would be 
stronger proof of the real state of the case than any 
letter I could send telling the facts, and giving the 
reasonable ground for hope which we now felt. But ho 
still preferred to wait ; and ere very long we found, by 
pinning the paper to the table, to keep it firm, he could 
execute a tolerably legible epistle. The weeks rolled 
on, and, by slow degrees, he regained his strength ; his 



320 AKMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

bright, hopeful disposition, even temper, and uniform 
cheerfulness, were great aids to his recovery ; and we 
watched his improvement with great satisfaction, and at 
last had the j)leasure of seeing him able to be up, and 
even out, for a short time. 

"^'He came to me, one morning, in our ladies' room, 

saying, ' Miss , would it be troubling you too much 

to ask you to Avrite to mother ?' 

^' 'Brought to it at last !' said I. 'AVhy do you ask 
me now, Robinson, when you have refused so often 
before, and can write for yourself ?' 

" ' That's just it; she wont believe what I say; thinks 
I'm fooling her, and pretending to be better than I really 
am ; and has an idea they're going to take my arm ofi', 
and I'm keeping it from her; and I thought if you'd just 
write, and tell her it wasn't coming off, she'd be sure 
to believe you.' 

" ' Sure to believe a stranger in preference to her own 
son, Robinson ? Does that tell well for the son.' 

" ' Yes, ma'am, I think so ; she knows you could have 
no object in deceiving her; while the thing I care most 
for in the world is to keep her from fretting, and she 
knows it.' 

" There was no combating this reasoning, and in a 
short time I received a beautiful answer to my letter, well 
written and well expressed, confirming all that Robin- 
son had told us : that he was the youngest son, and 
had always been carefully and tenderly brought up; 
that he had two brothers, the only other children — one 
had gone to Texas, before the breaking out of the rebel- 
lion, and never having heard from him since, thej' feared 
he had been pressed into the rebel service ; fortunately 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 321 

she had never heard, and I trust, now, never may 
hear what Robinson had told us — that while pressing 
on at the Battle of Fair Oaks, over heaps of the enemy's 
dead, he saw an upturned face on the field — wounded or 
dead, he knew not which — that face, he said, he never 
could mistake — it was that of his brother ! 

•^^ We tried to convince him that this was most impro- 
bable — that his imagination was excited at the time, and 
that the dread that such a thing might happen had been 
' father to the thought ;' but in vain ; we never could 
persuade him to the contrary ; and yet, whether from a 
doubt in his mind, or the dread of the pain it must cause, 
he never, as we afterward found, had made any allusion 
to the subject in his letters home. 

'' One morning, after he had been able to be about, 
and even out for some weeks, I was surprised, on going 
into his ward, to find him in bed again. 

" ' Why, Robinson, I am sorry to see you there! What 
have you been doing?' 

''He hesitated, twisted the end of his coverlid, but 
made no answer. 

" 'Nothing wrong, I'm very sure of that. It wasn't 
your own fault, was it ?' said I, fearing he thought I 
doubted him, as so many of the relapses here are caused 
by excess, the moment the men are able to be out, and 
I well knew there was no such danger here. 

'' He looked up at me, at once, with his clear, honest 

eyes, and said, ' Yes, Miss , all my own fault ; but 

I thought she worried so ' 

" ' Your mother ?' I questioned. 

" ^ Yes, ma'am ; and if I could just slip my arm into 
my coat-sleeve long enough to have my picture taken, 

21 



322 ARMY LIFE IX CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSriTAL. 

she'd see it was better, and it would set her mind at rest 
more than all the letters I could write.' 

" So to satisfy this mother's heart, the poor wounded 
t^lioulder had been forced into his sleeve, giving him. as 
it did, several weeks of added suffering and confinement 
to his bed. Can any one wonder that such a man should 
have won his way to our hearts ; or at our regret, when 
Ave found he was to be transferred to another hospital, 
at some distance from the city ? We thus lost sight of 
him for many months. Several times when I asked 
after him at our own hospital, I was told that he had 
been there but a short time since ; sometimes the week 
before ; sometimes only the day before ; but it so hap- 
pened that we never met. His wound they told me was 
far from well, varying very much ; some days giving 
hope that it would heal, and then bursting out again. I 
had received many and urgent letters from his mother, 
before he left us, begging me to use all the influence I 
could bring to bear, to have him transferred to a hospi- 
tal near his home (this was of course before the present 
order on the subject had been given) ; but on applying 
to the surgeon, I found that he considered his wound far 
too serious to attempt the journey, and that Robinson so 
fully agreed with him, that I wrote the poor disappointed 
mother to that effect, trying to console her with the hope 
of restoring him to her, ere very long, perfectly cured. 
The winter slipped away ; the pressure of present hos- 
pital duties and interests had almost crowded out all 
thoughts of Robinson, when I am surprised, one sunny 
April afternoon, to receive a note from one of our lady 
visitors, telling me of Robinson's extreme illness, and that 
it is scarcely supposed he can recover. 



ARMT LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 323 

" An hour later finds M. and myself driving rapidly out 
to the hospital where he now is; and here we are at the 
gates ; how shall we enter ? Ah ! we do not now fear a 
guard with a bayonet, as we should have done some time 
since ; and fifteen minutes more sufiices for all the neces- 
sary ' red tape' connected with admittance, and we are 
at the door of Robinson's ward, listening to the ward- 
master's answer to our question : 

" ^ Yes, ladies, walk in ; but he wont know you ; he's 
too low, and he's flighty all the time.' 

"'Wont know us!' Robinson not know us! We 
cannot believe that ; but see ! he is leading the way ; 
and we follow to a bed where lies a man tossing rest- 
lessly, and talking or rather muttering to himself in an 
indistinct- tone ; his bandaged shoulder and arm resting 
on a pillow, for an operation has been performed — a 
large piece of bone extracted — and the result still doubt- 
ful. Doubtful? No; too certain; that face is enough. 
Poor mother in your western home, you can never look 
upon your boy, till you meet at the final Bar, in the 
presence of your Judge ! God in his mercy grant that 
it may be to spend a happy eternity together ! 

'•And yet, as we stand, we find ourselves almost doubt- 
ing whether this can really be our merry, laughing, 
whistling Robinson. Little hope, indeed, that he will 
recognize us, but let us try. 

" ' Robinson, do you know me ?' He starts, and in a 
moment the vacant gaze changes into one of his old 
bright smiles of recognition. 

" * Know you ! Why shouldn't I know you ? How 

long it is. Miss , since I have seen you — and you 

too,' added he, stretching out his hand to M. ; but even 



324 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

as he spoke, his expression changed, and iiis mind 
wandered again. 

"And this was the en^ of all our care — this the result 
of so many weary months of suftering. He seemed 
pleased at our coming, and would answer any direct 
question, but could not sustain a conversation of even a 
few moments. We found our old friend, ' handsome 
Harry,' of concert memory, who had been transferred 
at the same time, established here as Robinson's devoted 
nurse, although entirely unable to move without crutches. 
He told us that the surgeon had told him that morning, 
that if his family wished to see him he had better 
telegraph for them at once. Robinson heard us, and 
catching the word ' telegraph,' said quickly, ' Don't 
telegraph ; father's poor, and he might come on ; I'll be 
better soon, and get a furlough, and go out to them.' 

'• ' But, Robinson,' said I, ' you are very ill ; perhaps 
you may not be better, and you would like to see your 
father.' 

" 'I don't think I am very ill — they said so to-day; 
but I think I'll come round soon.' 

" The next moment he was on the field, and evidently 
going over the fatal ' Fair Oaks ' fight. 

'' His friend Harry told us that it had been his most 
earnest desire and longing to see his father; and that 
he had urged him some days ago, if he should be worse, 
to let them know at home. I therefore wrote the 
telegram on his table, and we drove to the office on our 
return to the city, that no time might be lost. 

" I was detained at home for the two succeeding days ; 
but some of our ladies went out to see him each day, 
as he was a general favorite ; one lady going in a pour- 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 325 

jng rain, although she knew thai she would have nearly 
a mile to walk after leaving the cars; their report of 
the case was most unfavorable. On the third day, the 
Rev. Mr. , who had been a most constant and faith- 
ful friend to Robinson, in our hospital, went out with 
me. When we arrived, we found him in a terrible state 
of excitement; he had been talking, and was now 
almost shrieking, and dashing himself from side to side. 

" ' It's no use speaking to him to-day,' said the ward 
master ; ' he don't know anybody.' 

" But once again I tried it, and once again he extended 
his hand, and repeated my name, and then said, 'And 
Mr. , how very kind in him to come !' 

'^ I sat down by him, and tried to soothe and calm that 
dreadful restlessness ; his mind was too much gone for 
words, I only gently stroked his brow, and fanned him. 
' I am out on the water ; out on the water !' was his 
one cry, from a low tone ascending till it amounted 
almost to a scream. Truly he was 'out on the water,' 
and where was compass or chart for the final voyage ? 
Those words, with the constant repetition of his brother's 
name, were the last I ever heard him utter. The only 

moment of calmness I noticed, was when Mr. knelt 

at his bedside, and repeated those soul-soothing prayers, 
from the ' Visitation of the Sick.' He attempted no 
conversation, for we well knew Robinson was in no 
state to bear it. We had felt, from the first, that prayer 
for him was all that we could offer ; not xcitlt him, as 
his intervals of consciousness were merely momentary. 
His father had not yet arrived, and there appeared little 
hope that he could now do so in time, as he was very 
much lower than on my last visit, and evidently sinking 



326 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

As our presence could give him no comfort, we left him 
with heavy hearts. 

" When I reached there the next day, I found that an 
order had been given prohibiting all admittance for 
visitors to his ward, as the surgeon thought that Robin- 
son had been excited by those he had seen the day 
before, but that his father had come, and that we could 
see him ; he had arrived that morning. 

''There are few things connected with this hospital 
work which I recall with more pleasure than the simple, 
earnest gratitude of this bronzed and weather-beaten 
old man, for the trifling kindnesses which we had been 
able to offer to his boy. There was something about him 
altogether so real, so honest, genuine, and sincere, that 
one could not help feeling drawn to him at once. He 
was a rough, plain Western man, primitive in the 
extreme ; but no one could listen to him without the 
consciousness that a warm, true, noble heart, beat 
beneath that uncouth exterior. 

" Had the telegram been a day later he could not have 
reached here for nearly a week longer. The train, 
which only runs on certain days, left the morning 
after he received the news ; he had travelled night and 
day, making every connection, and performing the 
journey as rapidly as it could be done. 

His boy, he said, had recognized him, and he was 
pleased to find him better than he had hoped for. He 
thought with care he would get well now, and he was 
going at once to telegraph the good news to his wife. 

"We were thunderstruck; how could he be so 
deceived? For although we had not seen Robinson 
that day, we well knew he was in a condition from 



ARMY LIFE IN CAxMP, FIELD, AND HOStPITAL. 327 

which he could not rally. It seemed, therefore, no 
kindness to allow his mother to be tortured with false 
hope, and we earnestly represented (hard as it seemed 
to do so) that the surgeons did not look for any im- 
provement ; but all in vain — he had seen sickness — he 
had seen doctors mistaken before now — his boy was 
going to get well ; so he accompanied us to the telegraph 
station, and sent his message. That evening I was told 

some one wanted to see me, from the hospital, and 

on going out, was met by the words, ' Miss , my 

boy's gone, my boy's gone !' and a burst of sobs, which 
seemed as though it must shake that poor old frame to 
pieces. 

" He had scarcely left, in the morning, to send his 
hopeful telegram, when the change took place, and 
Rbbinson breathed his last just as his father reached 
his bedside. The blow fell heavier, as we had feared, 
from the strong hope he had persisted in entertaining, 
and even then it seemed as though he were too much 
bewildered and stunned to realize fully what had oc- 
curred. There was something inexpressibly touching in 
the grief of that poor, bowed-down old man, shattered 
as he was, too, by hard travel and loss of rest ; and yet 
I hardly knew how to comfort him, or to answer that 
sad appeal, ' How can I go back to his mother without 
him ?' Deep grief must ever bear with it a reverence 
of its own, and this seemed something one scarcely 
dared meddle with. 

" He said the funeral was to take place the next 
afternoon, and begged that the ladies who had been so 
kind to him would be present for his mother's sake ; he 



328 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

thought it would comfort her to know it. I readily con- 
sented, and promised to inform the others. 

" He rose to go, and drawing a little paper from his 
pocket, said : ' I thought maybe you might care for 
this ; it is a lock of my boy's hair, which I cut off for 
you, and I thought his mother woi ' ' (be glad to know 
you had it.' 

"I expressed my feelings in a few words, which 
seemed to soothe and gratify him. 

" That poor mother seemed never out of his thoughts; 
and again and again would he repeat that piteous ques- 
tion, ' How can I go back to her without him ?' 

"• But he need not have feared ; that mother's heart 
was anchored on the Rock which alone can withstand 
the storms of earth. Listen to but one sentence from her 
first letter (to one of the ladies, who had been a kind 
and constant correspondent), after that sad return. 

" 'At first it seemed I could not bear it. My bright- 
faced, joyous boy — my sunbeam ! But soon came the 
thought, how short the journey would be for me to go 
to him, and that my sunbeam would now shed its ray 
upon me from the sky, to light my path onward and 
upward.' 

''It would be of little avail to go into the dreary 
details of that dreariest afternoon. Touching in the 
extreme did it seem to see the little band (for the ladies 
willingly agreed to the request to be present) take their 
places as mourners with the father ; mourners in reality, 
though so lately strangers; mourners, for we claimed a 
right to grieve ; for was it not, as I have said, a young 
life given for our country as well as his ? — for the one 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 6Z\) 

common cause which forms so strong a bond between 
all loyal hearts ? 

"A heavy, pouring rain added to the general gloom ; 
the only comfort came from the Avords of our Burial 
Service, which must always fall with blessed balm upon 
the sorrowful sou" Tt was performed at his father's re- 
quest, and with the permission of the surgeon in charge, 

by Robinson's kind and true friend, the Rev. Mr. , 

to whom I have alluded before. 

' ' It was a long, long time ere I could forget the face 
of that broken-hearted old father, as — every thing over 
— he stood at the door, as we drove off, leaving him 
lonely and desolate among strangers. He was to start 
that night alone, in the rain, on his sad, homeward 
journey, and seemed to long to keep us with him to the 
last; and how we longed to stay to comfort him ! But 
we must say good-by, and with a long, warm grasp of 
that rough hand, we parted, and one more hospital sor- 
row was over. 

'' Brave, gentle, heroic heart ! The aching limb, the 
suffering frame, the strained, excited nerves are stilled 
forever. Robinson sleeps in a land of strangers ; but 
the turf that covers that ' soldier's grave' will be mois- 
tened and kept green by the tears of those who can 
never forget that bright example of noble unselfishness 
and beautiful patience under severest suffering and trial." 



330 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 



Challenging the Sentinel. — It was the custom of the 
colonel of the Eighty-fifth Pennsylvania Volunteers to 
make the rounds every night in person, and satisfy 
himself that every sentinel was at his post and doing 
his duty. On one occasion, while in the discharge of 
that self-imposed duty, he approached a post, and re- 
ceived the challenge as usual, " Who comes there ?" 

" Friend with the countersign," was the colonel's 
reply. 

Here the poor sentinel was at a loss. The rest of his 
instructions had been forgotten. The colonel was a 
very particular man, and insisted that every thing 
should be done exactly right. So, after spending con- 
siderable time in the endeavor to impress the '"^role" 
upon the mind of the sentinel, he suggested that he would 
act as sentinel while the other should personate the 
colonel. '' Blinky" — for such was this soldier's surname 
in the regiment — moved back a few paces and then 
turned to approach the colonel. '' Who comes there ?" 
challenged the colonel. 

'^Wliy, Blinhy ; dont you know ??ze, colonel?''' 

This was too much for even so patient and forbearing 
a man as Colonel Howell. "As green as verdigris," 
thought he. The gun was handed over, and the colonel 
passed on to the next post, meditating upon the vanity 
of all earthly things in general, and of things military 
in particular. 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 331 



RACHEL SOMERS, THE NOBLE MOTHER. 

Mr. J. R. GiLMORE (Edmund Kirke) relates an incident 
which occured under his own observation in East Ten- 
nessee, which proves that the Spartan mother who gave 
her sons the charge, as she handed them their shields, 
" Come back with these, or upon them !" has been far 
surpassed in lofty heroism by an American, Christian 
mother. A chaplain of one of the regiments of the 
Army of the Cumberland, whom he was visiting, invited 
him to accompany him to the regimental hospital. 
'' One of my boys is dying," he said — ^' a Tennessee boy, 
wounded at Stone river. He has lingered long, but now 
is going." Mr. Gilmore continues : 

Walking rapidly across the open fields, we entered, 
at the end of a short half hour, a dingy warehouse in 
the very heart of the city. About fifty low cots were 
ranged along the two sides of a narrow, cheerless apart- 
ment on the ground floor of this building, and on one of 
them the wounded soldier was lying. His face was 
pallid, his eyes were fixed, a cold, clammy sweat was 
on his forehead — he was dying. Sitting at his feet was 
a lad of sixteen ; and kneeling at his side, her hand in 
his, was a middle-aged woman, with worn garments, and 
a thin, sorrow-marked face. 

"• You are too late ! He is almost gone," said the col- 
onel of the regiment, as we paused before the group. 

The chaplain made no reply, but slowly uncovered 
his head, for the dying man was speaking. 

"Mother," He said, "good-by. And you, Tom, good- 



hy. Be of good heart, mother. God will take care of 

you, and save — save the ." A low sound then 

rattled in his throat, and he passed away, with the 
name of his country on his lips. 

The mother bent down and closed the eyelids of her 
dead son ; and then, kissing again and again his pale 
face, turned to go away. As she did so, the chaplain, 
taking her hand in his, said to her : 

" The Lord gave : the Lord hath taken away." 

Looking up to him with tranquil face and tearless eyes, 
the woman answered : 

" ' Blessed be the name of the Lord.' They have mur- 
dered my husband, Mr. Chapl'in, my oldest boy, and 
now John, too, is gone." Then, laying her hand on the 
shoulder of her living son, she turned to the colonel, and 
while her voice trembled a very little, she added : " He's 
all I've got now, Mr. Gunnel — give him John's place 
in the rigiment." 

A tear rolled down the colonel's weather-beaten 
cheek, and he turned his face away, but said nothing. 
There was a convulsive twitching about the chaplain's 
firm-set mouth, as 7ie said : 

" The Spartan mother gave only hvo sons to her 
country : would you give three /" 

" I'd give all— all I've got, Mr. Chapl'in," was the low 
answer. 

And this was a ''poor white" woman! Her words 
should be heard all over the land. They should go 
down in history, and make her name — Rachel Somers 
— immortal. 







t»»- ■ 4 " 






^■. 







i ill 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 333 



THE SOLDIERS' GUARDIAN ANGEL. 

Among those who have sacrificed all the comforts of 
life, the pleasures of society, and the delights of intellec- 
tual culture and association for the still higher and holier 
joy of ministering to those, who, on our great battle fields, 
have fallen in defence of their country, -there is none more 
deserving of a nation's gratitude and enduring remem- 
brance than Miss Clara H. Barton. 

Of an excellent family in Massachusetts, a family num- 
bering among its connections some of the most eminent 
citizens of the Old Bay State, highly educated, and 
though modest and diffident in manner, possessing ex- 
traordinary executive ability, and an active and self-re- 
liant disposition, this young and gifted woman, from the 
time of the wounding of our soldiers in Baltimore, gave 
herself wholly to the work of ministering to the sick and 
wounded soldiers of the Army of the Potomac. At first, 
owing to the obstacles which were in the way of the per- 
sonal ministrations of women unconnected with the Sani- 
tary Commission in the field, she confined her labors to 
the hospitals, and to the sending of supplies by trust- 
worthy distril^uters to the army in the field, from Wash- 
ington. Soon, however, this ceased to satisfy her patri- 
otic heart, which longed to give to the wounded heroes, 
on the battle field or in the field hospitals, those gentle 
ministries which woman only can bestow. After a severe 
mental struggle with those conventional ideas which de- 
clared it altogether improper for a young lady, unpro- 
tected, to go even on an errand of mercy into the army, 



334 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

she went first with a car load of supplies to Culpepper 
Court House, just after the disastrous battle of Cedar 
Mountain, on the 9th of August, 1862. Returning to 
Washington, she obtained the assistance of other ladies 
and one or two gentlemen as companions in her labors 
of love, and with another car load of supplies reached 
the battle field of Bull Run at the close of the second 
struggle of that name, on the 30th of August, 1862. Her 
coining here was almost like an angel's visit. The sur- 
geons, overworked by the sad necessities of that bloody 
fray, which had come upon a succession of previous 
battles, were just ready to give out and abandon their 
work in despair. They were without bandages, without 
cordials, without lights, without food for themselves or 
the wounded, when just at the moment of despair, Miss 
Barton, who, finding that locomotives could not be made 
to work, had impressed into her service some mules, who 
dragged the car along the rickety track, drove up her- 
self, greatly exhausted with her exertions, but with every 
thing that was needed, bandages, cordials, lights, and 
food, and by her own ministrations of gentleness and 
tenderness, recalled to life and hope many who were 
already far on their way into the land of shadows. She 
remained on the field, amid great personal peril, during 
the next two days, ministering to the wounded from the 
battle of Chantilly, even when surgeons fled from the 
field. By the 3d of September, the army with its 
wounded were safe under the shelter of the fortifica- 
tions around Washington, and her vocation for the mo- 
ment had ceased. Three days later they were march- 
ing in long columns northward to meet the foe in Mary- 
land, and a great battle was evidently impending near 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 335 

the Pennsylvania border. Miss Barton promptly sought 
the opportunity of carrying aid and succor to those who 
were destined to suffer in the impending battle. But 
the place where the battle would be fought was unknown, 
and transportation almost wholly unattainable. With 
great difficulty, her friend. General Rucker, superinten- 
dent of transportation, managed to spare her a single 
army wagon and one teamster. Loading this with such 
supplies as her experience had taught her would be 
needed, and accompanied only by Mr. C. M. Welles, a mis- 
sionary of the Free Mission Society, she started, on the 
morning of Sunday, September 14th, 1862, to follow the 
route of the army, riding in the army wagon, and sleep- 
ing in it at night. On her route she purchased all the 
bread she could find at the farm-houses. After three days 
of travel over the dusty roads of Maryland, she reached 
Burnside's corps after dark on the night of the 16th, 
and found the two armies lying face to face along the 
opposing ridges of hills that bound the valley of the 
Antietam. There had already been heavy skirmishing, 
far away on the right, where Hooker had forded the 
creek, and taken position on the opposite hills ; and the 
air was dark and thick with fog and exhalations, with 
the smoke of camp-fires, and the preparations for the 
fierce struggle of the morrow. 

There was little sleep that night, and as the morning 
sun rose bright and beautiful over the Blue Ridge, and 
its rays lit up what was soon to become the valley of 
death, the firing on the right was resumed. Reinforce- 
ments soon began to move along the rear to Hooker's 
support. Believing that the place of danger was the 
place of duty. Miss Barton ordered her mules to be har- 



336 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

nessed, and took her place in the swift moving train of 
artillery that was passing. On reaching the scene of 
action, they turned into a field of tall corn and drove 
through it to a large barn. They were close upon the 
line of battle ; the rebel shot and shell flew thickly 
around and over them, and in the barnyard and among 
the corn, lay wounded and bleeding men — the worst 
cases — -just brought from the places wheie they had- 
fallen. The army medical supplies had not yet arrived, 
nor the Sanitary Commission stores, which indeed did 
not come till one or two days later ; the small stock of 
dressings brought by the surgeons was exhausted, and 
the surgeons, in their desperate necessity, were endeav- 
oring to make bandages out of corn husks. Miss Barton 
opened to them her stock of bandages and dressings, and 
with her companion in travel proceeded to procure soft 
bread dipped in wine for the wounded and fainting. In 
the course of the day she picked up twenty-five men 
who had come to the rear with the wounded, and set 
them to work administering restoratives, bringing and 
applying water, lifting men into easier positions, check- 
ing hemorrhages by extemporized tourniquets, and the 
use of styptics, etc., etc. At length her supply of bread 
was exhausted, but fortunately a part of the liquors she 
had brought was found to have been packed in meal, and 
she at once determined to prepare gruel for the men. 
The farm-house to which the barn belonged was discov- 
ered at a little distance, and on searching its cellar she 
found three barrels of flour and a bag of salt which had 
been hidden there by the rebels the day before. Kettles 
were collected from the house, and the preparation of 
gruel commenced on a large scale, and as fast as cooked 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELP, AND HOSPITAL. 337 

it was carried in buckets and distributed along the line 
for miles. On the ample piazza of the house were ranged 
the operating tables, where the surgeons with terrible 
rapidity performed their fearful work ; and on that 
piazza Miss Barton kept her place from before noon till 
nightfiJl, preparing gruel, ministering to the wounded, 
and directing her assistants, the whole time directly 
under the fire of one of the fiercest battles of the war. 
Before night her face was as black as a negro's, and her 
lips and throat parched with the sulphurous smoke of 
battle. But night came at last, and with it a cessation 
of the deadly conflict. The dead and wounded lay 
everywhere. Amid the rows of corn, in the barn, in the 
yard, and on the piazza, and in the rooms of the house, 
they were laid so thickly that it was difficult to move 
between the rows. 

As the night closed in, the surgeon in charge looked 
despairingly at a bit of candle, and said it was the only 
one on the place, and no one could stir till morning. 
A thousand men dangerously wounded and suffering 
fearfully with thirst lay around that buildiilg, and if not 
succored many must die before the morning's light. It 
was a fearful thing to die alone and in the dark, but for 
aught he could see, it must come to that. Miss Barton 
replied, that profiting by her experience at Chantilly, 
she had brought with her thirty lanterns and an abun- 
dance of candles. It was worth a journey to Antietam 
to see the joy and hope that beamed from the faces of 
the wounded, when they learned that they were not to 
be left in darkness through that long, sad night, and 
found that it was due to her careful forethought which 
had provided for their needs. On the morrow the 

22 



338 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

fighting had ceased, but the work of caring for the 
wounded was resumed and continued all day. On the 
third day the regular supplies arrived, and Miss Barton 
having exhausted her small stores, and finding that her 
protracted fatigue and watching was bringing on a fever, 
turned her course toward Washington. It was with 
difficulty that she was able to reach home, where she 
was confined to her bed for some time. 

About the 23d of October, 1862, another great battle 
being expected in the vicinity of Harper's Ferry, she 
left Washington with a well appointed and heavily laden 
train of six wagons and an ambulance, with seven team- 
sters and thirty-eight mules. The government furnished 
transportation and the support of its teamsters, but the 
supplies were mostly procured from her own means or 
the contributions of friends. Her teamsters were rough 
and ruffianly fellows, who had no disposition to be com- 
manded by a woman, and who mutinied when they had 
gone but a few miles. Perfectly self-possessed and digni- 
fied in her manner. Miss Barton directed them to proceed, 
and stated to them the course she should pursue if they 
continued insubordinate, and they sulkily returned to 
their duty, venting their oaths and imprecations, however, 
on every thing in their way. She overtook the army as it 
was crossing the Potomac below Harper's Ferry. Her 
teamsters refused to cross. She summoned them to her 
ambulance, and gave them the alternative of crossing 
peaceably and behaving themselves as the}^ should, or 
of being instantly dismissed and replaced by soldiers. 
They knew very well that their dismission under such 
circumstances would be followed by their arrest and 
punishment, and having become convinced by this time 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 339 

that this gentle and winning woman possessed sufficient 
resolution and determination to act promptly and vigor- 
ously, they yielded, and from that day forward gave 
her no further trouble, obeying readily her every request. 
The expected battle did not come off, but in its place 
there was a race for Richmond between the opposing armies. 
The Army of the Potomac had the advantage of interior 
lines, keeping for some time along the eastern base of the 
Blue Ridge, while the rebel army followed the course of 
the Shenandoah. There was a struggle at every gap in 
the Blue Ridge, the rebels usually gaining possession of 
the pass first, and endeavoring to surprise some portion 
of the Union army as it passed, or to capture a part of 
the supply trains. Thus every day brought its battle 
or skirmish, and its additions to the list of the sick and 
wounded ; and for a period of about three weeks, until 
Warrenton Junction was reached, the national army had 
no base of operations, nor any reinforcements or supplies. 
The sick were carried all this time over the rough 
roads in ambulances or the hard, jolting army wagons. 
Miss Barton with her wagon train accompanied the 
Ninth Army Corps, as general purveyor for the sick. 
Her original supply of comforts was very considerable, 
and her men contrived to add to it every day such fresh 
provisions as could be gathered from the country. At 
each night's encampment, they lighted their fires and 
prepared fresh food and necessary articles of diet for 
the moving hospitals. Through all that long and pain- 
ful march from Harper's Ferry to Fredericksburg, 
those wagons constituted the hospital, larder, and kitchen 
for all the sick within reach. At "Warrenton Junction 
she left her train in charge of a friend like-minded with 



340 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

herself, and hastened to Washington for fresh supplies, 
with which she soon rejoined the army at Falmouth. 
The great and disastrous battle of Fredericksburg was 
approaching, and she felt that there was ample work 
for her to do. The Lacy House, at Falmouth, where 
she had her quarters at first, was a mark for the enemy's 
fire, and more than one shell crashed through the house, 
and passed her as she was engaged in her work of 
mercy, but she was too calm and fearless to be disturbed 
by them. At the time of the attack of the 11th of 
December, she was at the bank of the river, and received 
the wounded Union men, as well as the Rebel wounded 
who were brought over as prisoners. An incident which 
occurred at this time may serve to show the spirit of 
the woman. Among those who were brought to the 
hither shore of the Rappahannock was a rebel lieuten- 
ant, mortally wounded, a man of culture and intelligence. 
Her sympathies and ministrations were bestowed alike 
upon friend and foe; that a man was wounded and 
suffering was ever a sufficient passport to her kindly 
offices. Thus it happened that this young rebel officer 
was tenderly cared for, and though it was evident that 
his life could not be prolonged, his pains were assuaged, 
his suffering alleviated, and the passage into the dark 
valley smoothed by her care and attention. He was 
deeply grateful for these kindnesses received from the 
hands of those whom he had regarded as enemies, and, 
seeing that she was about to cross the river to Fred- 
ericksburg, where her services were needed to organize 
the temporary hospitals there, he beckoned to her, and, 
in a voice broken by the pangs of dissolution, implored 
her not to go over. He unfolded to her, in gratitude 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 341 

for her kindness, the plan of the rebel commander to 
draw the Union army into a trap, by withholding his 
fire till they had all crossed the Rappahannock, and 
then opening upon them from all his batteries, Avhich 
covered every point of their progress. He assured her 
that to cross over was to go to certain death, and 
begged, that for his sake and that of the thousands of 
wounded sure to need her services, she would remain 
on that side of the Rappahannock. Of course she could 
not reason with him, but her mind was made up that she 
must cross the river ;. the soldiers of the Ninth Army 
Corps, to whom she had so often ministered, were there, 
and she could not let them fall in the fierce battle that 
was impending, without being near them to minister 
relief and comfort to soul and body. Accordingly she 
went over, and was received with the most cordial of 
welcomes by the Ninth Corps, who regarded her as 
almost their guardian angel. She at once organized 
hospital kitchens, provided supplies for the wounded, 
and when the wounded men were brought in, sought to 
alleviate their sufferings. While thus engaged, one day, 
some soldiers came to her quarters, bringing an elegant 
Axminster carpet, whose great weight almost crushed 
them to the ground. " What is this ?" asked Miss Bar- 
ton. "A carpet we have brought for your quarters," 
answered the soldiers. ''• Where did you get it ?" asked 
Miss Barton. " Oh ! we confiscated it !" the soldiers 
replied promptly. " No ! No !'' said Miss Barton, 
'' that will never do. Government confiscates, but 
soldiers, when they take such things, steal ! I thank 
you for the kind spirit which prompted you to bring it 
to me, and am very sorry, but you must carry it back 



342 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

to the house from which you took it." The soldiers 
scratched their heads, looked sheepishly at each other, but 
finally gathered up the carpet, and with infinite pains 
tugged it back to the house from which they had taken it. 
In the skilfully managed retreat from Fredericksburg, 
she remained till the wounded were mostly across, and 
then tripped across the pontoon bridge just before its 
removal. On the Falmouth side she established a 
private kitchen and hospital for the wounded, and oc- 
cupied an old tent, while her train was encamped round 
her, performing the cooking in the open air, though it 
was midwinter. When the wounded from the attack on 
the rebel batteries were recovered by flag of truce, fifty 
of them were brought to her camp at night. They had 
lain for several days in the cold, and were badly 
wounded, famished, and almost frozen. She had the 
snow cleared away promptly, large fires built, and the 
men wrapped in blankets. An old chimney was torn 
down, the bricks heated in the fire, and placed around 
them. She prepared warm and palatable food and hot 
toddy for them, and they were allowed to partake of 
both freely enough to insure them a comfortable night's 
sleep, and in the morning the medical officers took them 
in charge. Soon after General Hooker superseded Gen- 
eral Burnside, Miss Barton went to Hilton Head, South 
Carolina, to be j)resent at the combined military and 
naval attack to be made on Charleston on the 7th of 
April. That attack, it will be remembered, was a 
failure, though not accompanied with much loss of life. 
Miss Barton remained at Hilton Head for several weeks, 
visiting the hospitals, and caring for the welfare of a 
dear brother, who was an officer in the army there ; but 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 343 

when General Gillmore moved on his expedition against 
Morris Island, she could no longer remain away from 
her work, and accompanied the expedition. Pitching 
her tent on the sand of Morris Island, and herself en- 
gaging in the drudgeries of the kitchen, she ministered 
to the soldiers, who, amid the burning heat of the 
Southern sun, were besieging simultaneously Fort Sum- 
ter and Fort Wagner, and awaited the fierce and bloody 
assaults which she knew were coming. When Wagner 
was stormed and the assault repulsed, she went to the 
relief of the wounded, wading through the deep sand, 
and putting the cool water and the refreshing restora- 
tives to their parched lips, while she staunched their 
bleeding wounds, and brought life and healing to those 
that were ready to perish. Throughout that long, hot 
summer, when all who could fled to cooler climes, she 
toiled on. " Some one," she said, " must see to these 
poor wounded and fever-stricken men, and, as others 
could not or would not, it seemed to be her duty to do 
it." More than once her health seemed about to give 
way, but she held out, and did not leave the island till 
winter, when, she said, she had become so accustomed 
to the shriek of the shells from Gillmore's monster guns, 
that she could not sleep at first, when no longer lulled 
to slumber by their music. In January, 1864, she re- 
turned to the North, and after a brief visit to her friends 
in Massachusetts and New York, returned to Washing- 
ton, and employed herself in preparation for the great 
campaign of the summer of 1864. Her great services 
were recognized by the Government, and she was as- 
signed to a position of usefulness and responsibility 
in connection with the Army of the James, in which, 



344 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

with the liberal supplies at her command, she was able 
to accomplish perhaps as much for the soldiers' comfort 
during this protracted campaign as in all her previous 
history. In January, 1865, she was recalled to Wash- 
ington by the sickness and death of a brother and 
nephew, and did not again join the army in the field. 
She could not rest, however, while the soldiers were suf- 
fering, and after spending some time at Annapolis in the 
care of the poor fellows who had suffered so cruelly in 
the rebel prisons, she returned to Washington, and, with 
the sanction of President Lincoln, commenced the work 
of making a systematic record of the missing soldiers of 
the Union armies, and ascertaining their whereabouts, 
condition, and fate. The organization of this bureau of 
correspondence in relation to the missing soldiers required 
records, and the employment of six or eight clerks, 
beside an infinity of labor on her part. At the request 
of the Secretary of War, she visited Andersonville with 
Captain James M. Moore and Dorrence At water, a soldier 
who had been a prisoner there, and superintended the 
establishment of a cemetery there, and the erection of 
headboards for the thirteen thousand Union dead there, 
the greater part of them murdered by the inhumanities 
of rebel officers and guards. In this l:>ureau of corre- 
spondence and her previous labors in behalf of the sol- 
dier, Miss Barton had exhausted her own patrimony and 
resources, and partly in payment for these expenditures, 
and partly to enable her to keep up her organization, 
which was of very great value to Government, especially 
in regard to pensions. Congress made an appropriation 
to her, in January, 1866, of fifteen thousand dollars. 
To few persons, however heartily disposed they may 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 345 

have been to undertake the work, has been vouchsafed 
so finn a constitution, and such rare executive ability as 
have been granted to Miss Barton ; and these gifts, added 
to a sound judgment, a clear head, and a zeal which 
never flags, have enabled her to accomplish a vast 
amount of good for the army. 

History will record few examples of higher, more 
earnest, and more continuous patriotic endeavor, than 
those which have graced the name of this young and 
gifted woman. To her belongs pre-eminently, the noble 
title, often bestowed ii[>on her, of " The Soldier's 
Guardian Angel." 



Military Etiquette. — Lieutenant , of the Third 

Rhode Island Heavy Artillery, at one of the posts in 
the Department of the South, while on duty in a carriage, 
had the kindness to favor a staff officer with a ride. 
On meeting a private of a colored regiment, who paid the 
required salute, which was properly returned by the 
lieutenant, the following dialogue, in substance, ensued : 
Staff Office}'. — ''Do you salute niggers?" 
Lieutenant. — '' He is a soldier; and he saluted me." 
Staff' Officer. — " I swear that I wont salute a nigger." 
Lieutenant. — " The regulations require you to return 
a salute." 

Staff Officer. — '' Curse such regulations ; I'll never sa- 
lute a nigger ; and I don't think much of a man that will." 
Lieutencmt — (coolly reining in his horse.) — " You can 
get out and walk, sir." 

The official was consigned to shoe leather and the 
sand, with the reflection, we could hope, that he was 
less of a man than a soldier. 



346 ARMY LIFE IN CAMr, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 



A HEROINE AND MARTYR. 

From the anti-revolutionary period of our country's 
history few families have wielded a more potent influ- 
ence than the Breckinridges. Intellectually and physi- 
cally vigorous, they had never been wanting in patriot- 
ism until the outbreak of the late Rebellion, when a 
scion of the house on whom the nation had showered its 
honors far beyond his deserts, a man who for four years 
had presided over its Senate and occupied the highest 
position but one in the Republic, took the fearful leap 
into treason, and, after doing what injury he could to 
the nation to which he owed so much in the Senate 
chamber, completed his infamy by entering the army 
of the rebels, where he soon became a major-general, 
though without achieving any considerable success. 
Like Lucifer of old he drew downward with him the 
third part of his family, and led them with him into the 
mire of rebellion ; but the old Spartan spirit yet remained 
in the family, bred by a mother who, in the time of the 
Revolution, sent her sons forth to fight for their country 
with the injunction, " Come back to me living or dead, 
as God may will it, but never with a wound in your 
backs !" 

There were a considerable number of clergymen in 
the different generations of the family, and for the 
most part they belonged to the church militant ; men of 
great logical power, and loving dearly to fight a giant 
wrong. Among these was the present patriarch of the 
family, Rev. Robert J. Breckinridge, who, during the 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 347 

war, with all the energy and ability of his great intel- 
lect, has fought against secession and rebellion. Such 
a spirit, too, were many of his kinsmen — such would 
have been his brother, Rev. John Breckinridge, had he 
lived to see the day of trial, and such was the spirit of 
the children of that eminent departed minister. One 
of these. Judge Samuel Breckinridge, of St. Louis, has 
been one of the most earnest Union men of that region ; a 
man who has striven earnestly to undo, so far as lay in his 
power, the wrongs which his cousin, John C. Breckin- 
ridge, has done to his country. 

But among all the members of the family there was 
none who combined more perfectly the characteristics 
of the heroine, the saint, and the martyr, than the sister 
of the judge. Miss Margaret E. Breckinridge. She was 
highly educated, and gifted beyond most of her sex with 
intellectual ability, of fragile form, but attractive in per- 
son and manner, and possessing a soul all aflame with 
the holiest patriotism, and at the same time of the most 
angelic purity. Her love of her country and of its 
cause knew no limits, for it she was willing to sacrifice 
her property, her health, her life itself; and she counted 
no sacrifice dear which should enable her to fulfil the duty 
which she felt she owed to its gallant defenders. From 
the first she had wielded her eloquent pen in its be- 
half, and early in the spring of 1862, she determined 
to consecrate herself to the work of caring specially 
for the sick and wounded soldiers. Her first experi- 
ences of hospital life were in the Baltimore hospitals, 
where slie contracted the measles, and was sick for 
some time. Thence she went to Lexington, Ky., when 
it wa.s in the possession of the rebel General E. Kirby 



348 AKMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

Smith. Her loyalty blazed out even while under the 
sway of the rebels. Thence she went to St. Louis, 
where, after some time spent in the hospitals, she pro- 
ceeded down the river in a hospital steamer to bring 
up the sick and wounded soldiers from Vicksburg and 
other points. After two of these trips, in which she 
went beyond her strength in her zeal for the poor suf- 
fering soldiers, she returned to St. Louis, to endeavor 
to recover her health, sadly imj)aired by her labors, 
and would visit the hospitals every day. In March, 
1864, she went eastward to her friends, in hope of re- 
covering so far as possible, that she might again serve 
her country, or as she expressed it, in her communica- 
tion to the Sanitary Commission, ''Do a little to atone 
for the great evils which some of her kinsmen had in- 
flicted upon her beloved country." Here, after some 
rest, she went into the Episcopal Hospital, Philadel- 
phia, and took lessons from the surgeons in the dress- 
ing of wounds and the medical care of the wounded, les- 
sons which she hoped to be able to make serviceable on 
the field, but it was not so to be. Her brother-in-law, 
Colonel Peter A. Porter, of Niagara Falls, N. Y., had 
fallen in one of the fierce battles of that terrible cam- 
paign from the Rapidan to the James, and frail and ill 
as she was, her friends feared to communicate the sad 
event to her. At last they were obliged to let her 
know it, and she went at once to meet the family, who 
had come on to receive the body of the dead hero. She 
returned with them to Niagara, where, after an illness 
of five weeks, she fell asleep, whispering to a friend 
in her last conscious moments, "Underneath are the 
everlasting arms." 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 349 

No memoir can do justice to the noble and patriotic 
spirit which so vivified and glorified every act of this 
young and gifted woman, but a few incidents, gathered 
by friends or culled from her letters, of her experiences 
in hospital life, may be of interest to our readers. Of 
her zeal for her country's cause and defenders, even 
when surrounded by its enemies, some idea can be 
formed from the following incident related in a letter to 
a friend: 

"At that very time, a train of ambulances, bringing 
our sick and wounded from Richmond, was leaving 
town on its way to Cincinnati. It was a sight to stir 
every loyal heart ; and so the Union people thronged 
round them to cheer them up with pleasant, hopeful 
words, to bid them God speed, and last, but not least, 
to fill their haversacks and canteens. We went, think- 
ing it possible we might be ordered off by the guard, 
but they only stood off, scowling and wondering. 

"'Good-by,' said the poor fellows from the ambu- 
lances. 'We're coming back as soon as ever we get 
well.' 

'' ' Yes, yes,' we whispered, for there were spies all 
around us, ' and every one of you bring a regiment 
with you.' " 

When she first began to visit the hospitals in and 
around St. Louis, she wrote : " I shall never be satisfied 
until I get right into a hospital, to live till the war is 
over. If you are constantly with the men, you have 
hundreds of opportunities and moments of influence in 
which you can get their attention and their hearts, and 
do more good than in any missionary field." 

Once, on board a steamer, near Vicksburg, during 



350 ARMY LIFE IK CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

the fearful winter siege of that city, some one said to her : 
"You must hold back, you are going beyond your 
strength, you will die if you are not more prudent." 

" Well," said she, with thrilling emphasis, " what if 
1 do ? Shall men come here by tens of thousands and 
fight, and suffer, and die, and shall not some women be 
willing to die to sustain and succor them ?" 

A friend, who had been associated with her in her 
work of love, speaks of her thus : "^ With her slight 
form, her bright face, and her musical voice, she seemed 
a ministering angel to the sick and suffering soldiers, 
while her sweet, womanly purity, and her tender devo- 
tion to their wants, made her almost an object of worship 
among them. *Aint she an angel?' said a gray headed 
soldier, as he watched her one morning, while busily getr 
ting breakfast for the boys on the steamer * City of 
Alton.' ' She never seems to tire, she is always smiling, 
and don't seem to walk. She flies all but — God bless 
her !' Another, a soldier boy of seventeen, said to her, 
as she was smoothing his hair, and saying cheering 
words about mother and home to him, 'Ma'am, where 
do you come from ? How could such a lady as you are 
come down here to take care of us poor, sick, dirty 
boys ?' She answered : ' I consider it an honor to wait 
on you, and wash off the mud you've waded through for 
me.' Another asked this favor of her : ' Lady, please 
write down your name, and let me look at it, and take 
it home to show my wife who wrote my letters, and 
combed my hair, and fed me. I don't believe you are 
like other people.' " 

In one of her letters, she says : '' I am often touched 
with their anxiety not to give trouble, not to bother, as 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 351 

they say. That same evening I found a poor, ex- 
hausted fellow lying on a stretcher, on which he had 
just been brought in. There was no bed for him just 
then, and he looked uncomfortable enough, with his 
knapsack for a pillow. ' I know some hot tea will do 
you good,' I said. ' Yes, ma'am,' he answered, ' but I 
am too weak to sit up with nothing to lean against ; it's 
no matter — don't bother about me ;' but his eyes were 
fixed longingly on the smoking tea. Everybody was 
busy, not even a nurse in sight, but the poor man must 
have his tea. I pushed away the knapsack, raised his 
head, and seated myself on the end of the stretcher, 
and, as I drew his poor tired head back upon my 
shoulder, half holding him, he seemed, with all his 
pleasure and eager enjoyment of the tea, to be troubled 
at my being so bothered with him. He forgot I had 
come so many hundred miles on purpose to be 
' bothered.' " 

Early in January of '63, Miss Breckinridge de- 
scended the Mississippi to Vicksburg, for the purpose of 
attending to the sick and wounded there, and rendering 
aid in bringing them up to St. Louis. It was a trip at- 
tended with great peril, because of the guerillas lying 
in ambush, and the bands of rebels ever on the watch 
for the steamers and transports as they passed, but her 
mission was too important to allow herself to dwell 
upon danger. She reached her destination in safety^ 
and returned to St. Louis on a small hospital boat, on 
which there were one hundred and sixty patients in 
care of herself and one other lady. A few extracts from 
one of her letters will show what brave work it gave 
her to do : "It was on Sunday morning, 25th of January, 



352 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

that Mrs. C. and I went on board the hospital boat 
which had received its sad freight the day before, and 
was to leave at once for St. Louis, and it would be im- 
possible to describe the scene which presented itself to 
me as I stood in the door of the cabin. Lying on the 
floor, with nothing under them but a tarpaulin and 
their blankets, were crowded fifty men, many of them 
with death written on their faces ; and looking through 
the half open doors of the state-rooms, we saw that they 
contained as many more. Young, boyish faces, old and 
thin from suffering, great, restless eyes that were fixed 
on nothing, incoherent ravings of those who were wild 
with fever, and hollow coughs on every side; this, and 
much more that I do not want to recall, was our welcome 
to our new work ; but, as we passed between the two 
long rows, back to our cabin, pleasant smiles came to 
the lips of some, others looked after us wonderingly, 
and one poor boy whispered, ' Oh, but it is good to see 
the ladies come in !' I took one long look into Mrs. 
C.'s eyes, to see how much strength and courage was 
hidden in them. We asked each other, not in words, 
but in those fine electric thrills by which one soul ques- 
tions another, 'Can we bring strength and hope and 
comfort to these poor, suffering men ?' and the answer 
was, * Yes, by God's help, we will.' The first thing was 
to give them something like a comfortable bed, and, 
Sunday though it was, we went to work to run up our 
sheets into bed sacks. Every man that had strength 
enough to stagger was pressed into the service, and by 
night most of them had something softer than a tarpau- 
lin to sleep on. 'Oh, I. am so comfortable now!' some 
of them said ; ' I think I can sleep to-night,' exclaimed 



I 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 353 

one little fellow, half laughing with pleasure. The next 
thing was to provide something that sick people could 
eat, for cofiee and bread was poor food for most of them. 
We had two little stoves, one in the cabin and one in 
the chambermaid's room, and here, the whole time we 
were on board, we had to do the cooking for a hundred 
men. Twenty times that day I fully made up my 
mind to cry with vexation, and twenty times that day I 
laughed instead ; and surely, a kettle of tea was never 
made under so many difficulties as the one I made that 
morning. The kettle lid was not be found, the water 
simmered and sang at its leisure, and when I asked for 
the poker, I could get nothing but an old bayonet, and, 
all the time through the half open door behind me, I 
heard the poor, hungry fellows asking the nurses, 
* Where is that tea the lady promised me ?' or ^ When 
will my toast come ?' But there must be an end to all 
things, and when I carried them their tea and toast, and 
heard them pronounce it ' plaguey good,' and ' awful 
nice,' it was more than a recompense for all the worry. 

"One great trouble was the intense cold. We could 
not keep life in some of the poor, emaciated frames. 
' Oh, dear ! I shall freeze to death !' one poor little 
fellow groaned, as I passed him. Blankets seemed to 
have no effect upon them, and at last we had to keep 
canteens filled with boiling water at thei^ feet. 

" There was one poor boy about whom from the first 
I had been very anxious. He drooped and faded from 
day to day before my eyes. Nothing but constant 
stimulants seemed to keep him alive, and at last I 
summoned courage to tell him — oh, how hard it was ! — 
that he could not live many hours. *Are you willing 

23 



354 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

to die ?' I asked him. He closed his eyes and was 
silent a moment ; then came that passionate exclama- 
tion which I have heard so often — ' My mother ! Oh, 
my mother !' And to the last, though I believe God 
gave him strength to trust in Christ, and willingness to 
die, he longed for his mother. I had to leave him, and, 
not long after, he sent for me to come, that he was 
dying, and wanted me to sing to him. He prayed for 
himself in the most touching words ; he confessed that 
he had been a wicked boy, and then, with one last 
message for that dear mother, turned his face to the 
pillow, and died. And so, one by one, we saw them 
pass away, and all the little keepsakes and treasures 
they had loved and kept about them, laid away to be 
sent home to those they should never see again. Oh, 
it was heart-breaking to see that !" 

After the "sad freight" had reached its destination, 
and the care and responsibility are over, true woman 
that she is, she breaks down, and cries over it all, but 
brightens up, and looking back upon it, declares: "I 
certainly never had so much comfort and satisfaction in 
any thing in all my life, and the tearful thanks of those 
who thought in their gratitude that they owed a great 
deal more to us than they did, the blessings breathed 
from dying lips, and the comfort it has been to friends 
at home to hear all about the last sad hours of those 
they love, and know their dying messages, all this is a 
rich and full and overflowing reward for any labor and 
for any sacrifice." And again, she says, " There is a 
soldier's song of which they are very fond, one verse of 
which often comes back to me : 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP. FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. o55 

/ " 'So I've had a sight of drilling, 

And I've roughed it many days ; 
Yes, and death has nearly had me, 
Yet I think the service pays.' 

"Indeed it does — richly, abundantly, blessedly, and 
I thank God that he has honored me by letting me do 
a little and suffer a little for this grand old Union, and 
the dear, brave fellows who are fighting for it." 

Early in June, 1864, Miss Breckinridge reached 
Niagara on her way to the East, where she remained 
for a month. For a year she had struggled against 
disease and weakness, longing all the time to be at work 
again, making vain plans for the time when she should 
''be well and strong, and able to go back to the 
hospitals." With this cherished scheme in view, she 
went, in the early part of May, 1864, into the Epis- 
copal Hospital, Philadelphia, that she might acquire 
experience in nursing, especially in surgical cases, so 
that in the autumn she could begin the labor of love 
among the soldiers more efficiently and confidently tlian 
before. She went to work with her usual energy and 
promptness, following the surgical nurses every day 
through the wards, learning the best methods of band- 
aging and treating the various wounds. She was not 
satisfied with merely seeing this done, but often washed 
and dressed the wounds with her own hands, saying, 
" I shall be able to do^ this for the soldiers when I get 
back to the army." The patients could not understand 
this, and would often expostulate, saying, "Oh, no, 
miss, that is not for the like of you to do !" but she 
would playfully insist, and have her way. Nor was 
she satisfied to gain so much without giving something 



3 j6 army life in camp, field, and hospital. 

in I'ctuni, She went from bed to bed, encouraging the 
despondent, cheering the weak and miserable, reading 
to them from her little testament, and singing sweet 
hjmns at twilight — a ministering angel here as well as 
on the hospital boats of the Mississippi. 



» ». ««■-■♦ » 



THE FARMER'S CONTRIBUTION 

TO THE CHICAGO SANITARY PAIR, 

The Sanitary Fair at Chicago, in October and Novem- 
ber, 1S63, was the first of the series of great outpour- 
ings of the sympathy of the nation for its brave de- 
fenders, which were held successively at Boston, Cincin- 
nati, Brooklyn, New York, Pittsburg, Philadelphia, and 
St. Louis, and which yielded such abundant resources 
for the Sanitary Commissions, in the prosecution of 
their work of mercj'. Rev. Frederick N. Knapp, one 
of the secretaries of the U. S. Sanitary Commission, was 
present at Chicago, when, on the first day of the fiiir, 
the long procession of teams, extending many miles, 
came in from the country laden with provisions and 
other articles for the fair, and thus describes an incident 
which came under his notice : 

Among these wagons which had drawn up near the 
rooms of the Sanitary Commission to unload their stores, 
was one peculiar for its exceeding look of poverty. It 
was worn and mended, and was originally made merely 
of poles. It was drawn by three horses which had seen 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 357 

much of life, but little grain. The driver was a man 
past middle age, with the clothes and look of one who 
had toiled hard, but he had a thoughtful and kindly 
face. He sat there quietly waiting his turn to unload. 
By his side, with feet over the front of the wagon, for 
it was filled very full, was his wife, a silent, worn-look- 
ing woman (many of these men had their wives with 
them on the loads) ; near therearof the wagon was a girl 
of fifteen, perhaps, and her sister, dressed in black, car- 
rying in her arms a little child. 

Some one said to this man (after asking the woman 
with the child if she would not go into the Commission 
rooms and get warm) : '' My friend, you seem to have 
quite a load here of vegetables ; now I am curious to 
know what good things you are bringing to the soldiers ; 
will you tell me what you have ?" " Yes," said he ; 
" here are potatoes, and here are three bags of onions, 
and there are some ruta-bagas, and there are a few tur- 
nips, and that is a small bag of meal, and you will see 
the cabbages fill in ; and that box with slats has some 
ducks in it, which one of them brought in." ''Oh] 
then this isn't all your load, alone, is it?" '' Why, no! 
our region just where I live is rather a hard soil, and 
we haven't any of us much to spare any way, yet for 
this business we could have raked up as much again as 
this is, if we had had time ; but we didn't get the notice 
that the wagons were going in till last night about eight 
o'clock, and it was dark and raining at that, so I and 
my wife and the girls could only go around to five or 
six of the neighbors within a mile or so, but we did the 
best we could; we worked pretty much all the night, 
and loaded, so as to be ready to get out to the main 



358 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

road and start with the rest of them this morning; but 
I can't help it if it is little, it's something for those sol- 
diers." "Have you a son in the army?" '"No," he 
answered, slowly, after turning around and looking at 
his wife. " No, I haven't now, but we had one there once; 
he's buried down by Stone River ; he was shot there — 
and that isn't just so either — we called him our boy, 
but he was only our adopted son ; we took him when he 
was little, so he was just the same as our own boy, and 
(pointing over his shoulder without looking back) that's 
his wife there with the baby ! But I shouldn't bring 
these things any quicker if he were alive now and in the 
army ; I don't know that I should think so much as I 
do now about the boys away off there." It was in turn 
for his wagon to unload, so with his rough freight of 
produce, and his rich freight of human hearts with their 
deep and treasured griefs, he drove on — one wagon of a 
hundred in the train. 



A Romantic Incident: of the "Wah. — Governor Cur- 
tin, of Pennsylvania, was called upon at the Continental 
Hotel at Philadelphia, by a young lady. When she was 
introduced into the parlor she expressed her great joy at 
seeing the governor, at the same time imprinting a kiss 
upon his forehead. 

'* Madam," said he, '' to what am I indebted for this 
unexpected salutation ?" 

" Sir, do you not know me ?" 

^' Take a chair," said the governor, at the same time 
extending one of the handsomest in the parlor. 



ARMT LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 359 

" Shortly after the battle of Antietam you were upon 
that bloody field," said she to the governor. 

" I was," replied the governor. 

" You administered to the wants of the wounded and 
the dying." 

" It was my duty as a feeling man." 

" You did your duty well. Heaven alone will reward 
you, sir, for in this life there is no reward adequately 
expressive of the merit due you. You, sir, imparted 
consolation and revived the hopes of a dying soldier of 
the Twenty-eighth Ohio. He was badly wounded in 
the arm; you lifted him into an ambulance, and, the 
blood dripping from him, stained your hands and your 
clothing. That soldier Avas as dear to me as life 
itself." 

''A husband ?" said the governor. 
• "No, sir." 

'^A father ?" 

"No, sir." 

"A lever?" 

" No, sir." 

'^ If not a husband, father, brother, son, or lover, who, 
then, could it be ?" said the governor, at length breaking 
the silence, '* this is an enigma to me. Please explain 
more about the gallant soldier of Ohio." 

" Well, sir, that soldier gave you a ring* — C. E. D. 
were the letters engraved upon the interior. That is 
the ring now upon your little finger. He told you to 
wear it, and carefully have you done so." 

The governor pulled the ring off", and sure enough the 
letters were there. 

" The finger that used to wear that ring will never 



360 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

wear it aii}^ more. The hand is dead, but the soldier 
Btill lives." 

The governor was now more interested than ever. 

" Well, madam," said he, " tell me all about it. Is 
this ring yours? Was it given to you by a soldier 
whom you loved ?" 

" 1 loved him as I love my life ; but he never returned 
that love. He had more love for his country than for 
me; I honor him for it. The soldier who placed that 
little ring upon your finger stands before you." 

So saying, the strange lady rose from her chair, and 
stood before the governor. 

The scene that now ensued we leave to the imagina- 
tion of the reader. A happy hour passed. The girl 
who had thus introduced herself was Catherine E. David- 
son, of Sheffield, Ohio. She was engaged to be married, 
but her future husband responded to the call of the 
President, and she followed him by joining another 
regiment. He was killed in the same battle where she 
fell wounded. She is alone in the world, her father and 
mother having departed this life years ago. She was 
the soldier of the Twenty-eighth Ohio who had placed 
the ring upon the finger of Governor Curtin, for the kind 
attention given her upon the bloody field of Antietam. 



Unacceptable Gratitude. — Lieutenant J n, late 

of the Sixteenth Regiment, was a few days ago walking 
down Main street, when he was accosted by a fellow, 
half soldier, half beggar, with a most reverential mili- 
tary salute : ^ 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 361 

"God bless your honor," said the man, whose accent 
betrayed him to be Irish, "and long life to you." 

"How do you know me ?" said the lieutenant. 

" Is it how do I know your honor ?" responded Pat. 
"Good right, sure, I have to know the man that saved 
my life in battle." 

The lieutenant, highly gratified at this tribute to his 
valor, slid a fifty cent piece into his hand, and asked 
him, when ? 

"God bless your honor and long life to you," said the 
grateful veteran. " Sure it was Antietam, when seeing 
your honor run away as fast as your legs would carry 
you from the rebels, I followed your lead, and ran after 
you out of the way ; whereby, under God, I saved my 
life. Oh ! good luck to your honor, I never will forget 
it to you." 



A CORRESPONDENT with the Army of the Cumberland, 
narrates the followinji* incident : 



'o 



A certain wealthy old planter, who used to govern a 
precinct in Alabama, in a recent skirmish was taken 
prisoner, and at a late hour brought into camp, where a, 
guard was placed over him. The aristocratic rebel sup- 
posing every thing was all right — that he was secure 
enough any way as a prisoner of war — as a committee 
of the whole, resolved himself into " sleep's dead slum- 
ber." Awaking about midnight, to find the moon 
shining full into his face, he chanced to "inspect the 
guard," when, horror of horrors, that soldier was a 
negro ! And, worse than all, he recognized in that 



3G2 AiniY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

towering form, slowly and steadily walking a beat, one 
of his awn slaves ! 

Human nature could not stand that ; the prisoner was 
enraged, furious, and swore he would not. Addressing 
the guard, through clenched teeth, foaming at the mouth, 
he yelled out : 

" Sambo !" 

" Well, massa." 

" Send for the colonel to come here immediately. My 
own slave can never stand guard over me. It's a d — d 
outrage ; no gentleman would submit to it." 

Laughing in his sleeve, the dark-faced soldier promptly 
called out, " Corp'l de guard !" 

That dignity appeared, and presently the colonel fol- 
lowed. 

After listening to the Southerner's impassioned ha- 
rangue, which was full of invectives, the colonel turned 
to the negro with : 

"Sam!" 

" Yes, colonel." 

" You know this gentleman, do you ?" 

" Ob course ; he's Massa B., and has a big plantation 
in' Alabam'." 

"Well, Sam, just take care of him to-night," and 
the officer w\alked away. 

As the sentinel again paced his beat, the gentleman 
from Alabama appealed to him in an argument. 

" Listen, Sambo !" 

"You hush dar; I's done gone talkin' to you now. 
Hush, rebel !" was the negro's emphatic command, bring- 
ing down his musket to a charge bayonet position, by 
way of enforcing silence. 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 363 



THE VICKSBURG SCOW. 

A BALLAD. 

Brave Porter deals in hard, dry pokes, 
He's also good at a clever hoax ; 
Of all his deeds, in fight or fun. 
That queer old scow is " Number One." 

Abandoned by the river's marge. 
She had served her time as coaling barge ; 
Of refuse planks he shaped her roof 
Like iron-clads, quite cannon-proof 

Pork barrels old, with ne'er a head, 
As twin stacks rose, in chimnies' stead ; 
These vomited, to aid the joke, 
From hearths of mud, a dreadful smoke. 

In place of turret, on this raft, 
(Oh, was not she the drollest craft !) 
He rigged, from some plantation stript, 
A small outbuilding, nondescript. 

Two guns of log, of frightful size. 
Frowned from her ports in grisly guise ; 
To fit this monster of the stream 
To scare the rebels' guilty dream. 

The moon was neither bright nor dim, 
When Porter loosed this flat boat trim, 
And let her drift, her course to steer, 
With pilot none, nor engineer. 

On Mississippi's eastern side, 
The sentries soon her coming spied. 
They raised alarm at dead of night — 
All Vicksburg waked in deadly fright. 



IG4 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSFITAL. 

Drummers and generals, boj- and man, 

And gunners too, to quarters ran ; 

Oh, how they feared the awful ark 

That loomed so large through midnight dark 1 

As fast as she in range drew near, 
Their batteries roared with rage and fear ; 
Brimful when she began to float, 
No balls could sink this mystic boat. 

They marvelled much she did not sink ; 
" She's shot-proof, sure !" the rebels think ; 
Who ever heard of Yankee trick 
That worked than this more 'cute and slick ? 

The Butternuts waste shell and shot, 
Their cannonade gets loud and hot, 
They burn their powder, burst their guns, 
And shake the shores with deafening stuns. 

Louder than powder, on our side, 
Our soldiers laughed until the}' cried ; 
Some held their ribs, some rolled on grass, 
To think Seeesh was such an ass. 

Nor was this din of laugh and gun, 
The choicest part of Porter's fun. 
The Queen of the West, that captive ram. 
Escaped by flight a dreaded jam. 

Away she went, wc know not where ! 
But hers was not the biggest scare, — 
For down the stream, their valued prey, 
The captured Indianola lay. 

They thought to fit this costly prize, 
To run and "blast the Yankees' eyes;" 
But blew her up. as the scow drew near — 
Blew her to shivers, in their fear. 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

And so let all their projects burst, 

And blow to atoms Treason curst; 

But long live all our jolly tars, 

The UNION too, with the Stripes and Stars ! 



MISS MELVINA STEVENS, 

THE EAST TENNESSEE HEROINE. 

The position of East Tennessee during the Rebellion 
was different from that of any other portion of the 
Southern States except Western Texas. A majority of 
its inhabitants were loyal, but the rebels controlled the 
country by their troops, and had a sufficient number of 
sympathizers among the inhabitants to make the posi- 
tion of the Union-loving citizens perilous. But so 
thoroughly outspoken and defiant was the loyalty of the 
people that it constantly found expression in their acts. 
The men capable of bearing arms were almost univer- 
sally enlisted in the Union army or acting as scouts for 
it, and the women, with a heroism above all praise, let 
slip no opportunity of benefiting the Union cause. For 
the Union men who were " lying out," as it was termed, 
^. e., concealing themselves by day to avoid the ruthless 
conscription, or the murderous violence of the rebels, 
they had always words of cheer and acts of kindness, 
feeding them from their own scanty supplies, and shel- 
tering them whenever it was safe to do so. When, as 
was the case in the later years of the war, the Union 
prisoners who had escaped from Richmond, Salisbury, 
Wilmington, Charleston, Millen, and Andersonville, 



366 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND nOSFITAL. 

began to find their way over the Black and Cumberland 
mountain ranges, these faithful Unionists, both men and 
women, guided and escorted them, concealed them by 
day or night, and led them by secret routes past the 
rebel troops which were hunting them, till they were 
safe within the Union lines. A single guide, Dan Ellis, 
brought through between four and five thousand escaped 
prisoners in this way. 

Among those who assisted actively in this good work 
was the young and beautiful girl, long known as " the 
nameless heroine," whose services we here record. She 
was from a loyal family, and avowed openly her earnest 
sympathies with the North, but her youthfulness, grace, 
and intelligence, made her so widely and universally 
beloved and petted, that the rebel officers, many of 
whom were much ftiscinated by her beauty and pleasing 
manners, never suspected her of giving active aid to the 
escaped Unionists or to the Union army. Yet she had 
obtained from them information in regard to their plans 
and expectations, of which she made most effectual use 
for the Union cause. Night after night, too, did she 
escort the escaped prisoners past the most dangerous 
points of the rebel garrisons and outposts, doing this 
from the age of about fourteen, at the risk of her liberty 
and life, from no other motive than her ardent love for 
her country and its cause, and in spite of the flatteries 
and persuasions of the secessionists, who would gladly 
have won a maiden so gifted and so well educated to 
their cause. The correspondents of the Tribune and the 
Cincinnati Gazette — Messrs. Richardson, Browne, and 
Davis — were indebted to her guidance for their escape 
from the rebels. 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 367 



SOMEBODY'S DARLING. 

Into a ward of the whitewashed halls, 

Where the dead and dying lay, 
Wounded by bayonets, shells, and balls, 

Somebody's Darling was borne one day — 
Sotmebody's Darling, so young and so brave, 

Wearing yet on his pale, sweet face. 
Soon to be hid by the dust of the grave, 

The lingering light of his boyhood's grace. 

Matted and damp are the curls of gold. 

Kissing the snow of the fair young brow, 
Pale are the lips of delicate mould — 

Somebody's Darling is dying now. 
Back from his beautiful blue-veined brow, 

Brush all the wandering waves of gold ; 
Cross his hands on his bosom now — 

Somebody's Darling is still and cold. 

Kiss him once for somebody's sake, 

^urmur a prayer both soft and low ; 
One bright curl from its fair mates take — 

They were somebody's pride, you know ; 
Somebody's hand hath rested there — 

Was it a mother's, soft and white ? 
And have the lips of a sister fair 

Been baptized in the waves of light ? 

God knows best ! he has somebody's love : 

Somebody's heart enshrined him there ; 
Somebody wafted his name above, 

Night pnd morn, on the wings of prayer. 
Somebody wept when he marched away. 

Looking so handsome, brave, and grand ; 
Somebody's kiss on his forehead lay. 

Somebody clung to his parting hand. 



368 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

Somebod3''s waiting and watching for him — 

Yeai'ning to hold him again to her heart; 
And there he lies with his blue eyes dim, 

And the smiling, child-like lips apart. 
Tenderly bury the fair young dead, 

Pausing to drop on his grave a tear ; 
Carve in the wooden slab at his head, 

" Somebody's Darling slumbers here." 



RALLYING A FLYING BRIGADE. 

When a body of troops are panic-stricken, and break 
and fly in confusion, military men agree in saying that 
it is almost an impossibility to rally them so as to make 
them immediately of service. The next day, or perhaps, 
if their panic occurred in the morning, on the evening 
of the same day, they may have so far recovered from 
its effects, as to be i'eady again for a fight, and to con- 
duct themselves as well as any troops in the field. But 
the attempt to rally them when flying almost invari- 
ably proves a failure. They may stop for a few 
moments, but presently they will be edging off in 
another direction. In the attack of Sherman's troops 
upon Fort Buckner, in the battle of Chattanooga, how- 
ever, an exception to this general rule occurred. A 
flying brigade was stopped in its flight, and turned 
again and marched instantly upon the enemy. An eye- 
witness thus relates the incident, which has no parallel 
save Sheridan's turning back his flying men at Middle- 
town: 

It was a partial repulse, but that momentary episode 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 369 

of the battle will reflect undying honor on the army of 
which those repulsed troops formed a part. I know not 
the cause — the rebel artillery may have been concen- 
trated upon it, but one brigade broke — broke in utter 
confusion, I thought, as I saw it, and the men came 
rushing down the hill. The others still stood, and the 
reinforcements continued to move forward. But the re- 
treating troops did not fly to the foot of the hill, for at 
the moment they w^ere passing the reinforcements an 
officer sprang forward among them, seized the standard 
of one of the regiments and stuck it in the ground. I 
saw him wave his sword once over his head, and point 
up the hill. I could not hear his voice, but the men 
did, and as if by magic — which will be forever a mys- 
tery to me — that routed column turned, turned in- 
stantly, and in a single second was marching up the 
hill, as firmly and as strongly formed as that of th^ 
newly arrived troops, and apparently forming a part of 
them. Not a man went further than where the rein 
forcements were met, and there all turned and re-charged 
as if it were a movement they had been practicing for 
years. 

And then this whole line pushed forward again — cer- 
tainly the most wonderful display of human nature 
under thorough discipline I have ever beheld or 
imagined. Both brigades had broken once ; yet now, 
after half an hour's fight, they again returned to the fight 
by the side of a third leader. It is to me, writing it, 
perfectly incomprehensible, and I turn to my notes to 
see if my memory is not at fault. But no — the wonder- 
ful achievement is there in black and white — the very 
hour marked and noted. 

24 



370 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

NIGHT SCENE IN A HOSPITAL. 

It was past eleven, and my patient was slowly weary- 
ing himself into fitful intervals of quietude, when, in one 
of these pauses, a curious sound arrested my attention. 
Looking over my shoulder, I saw a one-legged phantom 
hopping nimbly down the room ; and, going to meet it, 
recognized a certain Pennsylvania gentleman, whose 
wound-fever had taken a turn for the worse, and, de- 
priving him of the few wits a drunken campaign had 
left him, set him literally tripping on the light, fantas- 
tic toe '' toward home," as he blandly informed me, 
touching the military cap, which formed a striking con- 
trast to the severe simplicity of the rest of his decidedly 
undress uniform. "When sane, the least movement pro- 
duced a roar of pain or a volley of oaths ; but the depar- 
ture of reason seemed to have wrought an agreeable 
change both in the man and his manners ; for, balancing 
himself on one leg, like a meditative stork, he plunged 
into an animated discussion of the war, the President, 
lager beer, and Enfield rifles, regardless of any sugges- 
tions of mine as to the propriety of returning to bed, 
lest he be court-martialed for desertion. 

Any thing more supremely ridiculous can hardly be 
imagined than this figure, scantily draped in white, its 
one foot covered with a big blue sock, a dingy cap set 
rakingly askew on its shaven head, and placid satisfac- 
tion beaming in its broad, red fiice, as it flourished a 
mug in one hand, an old boot in the other, calling them 
canteen and knapsack, while it skipped and fluttered in 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 271 

the most unearthly fashion. What to do with the 
creature I didn't know ; Dan was absent, and if I went 
to find him, the perambulator might festoon himself out 
of the window, set his toga on fire, or do some of his 
neighbors a mischief. The attendant of the room was 
sleeping like a near relative of the celebrated Seven, 
and nothing short of pins would rouse him ; for he had 
been out that day, and whiskey asserted its supremacy 
in balmy whiffs. Still declaiming, in a fine flow of 
eloquence, the demented gentleman hopped on, blind 
and deaf to my graspings and entreaties; and I was 
about to slam the door in his face, and run for help, 
when a second saner phantom, " all in white," came to 
the rescue, in the likeness of a big Prussian, who spoke 
no English, but divined the crisis, and put an end to it, 
by bundling the lively monoped into his bed, like a 
baby, with an authoritative command to " stay put," 
which received added weight from being delivered in an 
odd conglomeration of French and German, accom- 
panied by warning wags of a head decorated with a 
yellow cotton nightcap, rendered most imposing by a 
tassel like a bell-pull. Rather exhausted by his excur- 
sion, the member from Pennsylvania subsided; and, 
after an irrepressible laugh together, my Prussian ally 
and myself were returning to our places, when the echo 
of a sob caused us to glance along the beds. It came 
from one in the corner — such a little bed ! — and such a 
tearful little face looked up at us, as we stopped beside 
it ! The twelve years old drummer boy was not sing- 
ing now, but sobbing, with a manly ejffort all the 
while to stifle the distressful sounds that would break out. 
''What is it, Teddy?" I asked, as he rubbed the tears 



372 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

away, and checked himself in the middle of a gi'eat sob 
to answer plaintively : 

" I've got a chill, ma'am, but I aint cryin' for that, 
'cause I'm used to it. I dreamed Kit was here, and when 
I waked up he wasn't, and I couldn't help it, then." 

The boy came in with the rest, and the man who was 
taken dead from the aml^ulance was the Kit he mourned. 
Well he might ; for, when the wounded were brought 
from Fredericksburg, the child lay in one of the camps 
thereabout, and this good friend, though sorely hurt 
himself, would not leave him to the exposure and 
neglect of such a time and j^lace ; but, wrapping him in 
his own blanket, carried him in his arms to the trans- 
port, tended him during the passage, and only yielded 
up his charge when Death met him at the door of the 
hospital, which promised care and comfort for the boy. 
For ten days, Teddy had shivered or burned with fever 
and ague, pining the while for Kit, and refusing to be 
comforted, because he had not been able to thank him 
for the generous protection, which, perhaps, had cost 
the giver's life. The vivid dream had wrung the 
childish heart with a fresh pang, and when I tried the 
solace fitted for his years, the remorseful fear that 
haunted him found vent in a fresh burst of tears, as he 
looked at the wasted hands I was endeavoring to warm : 

"Oh! if I'd only been as thin when Kit carried me 
{\s I am now, maybe he wouldn't have died ; but I was 
heavy, he was hurt worser than we knew, and so it 
killed him ; and I didn't see him to say good-by." 

This thought had troubled him in secret; and my 
assurances that his friend would probably have died at 
all events, hardly assuaged the bitterness of his regret- 
ful grief. 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 373 

At this juncture, the delirious man began to shout ; 
the one-legged rose up in his bed, as if preparing for 
another dart; Teddy bewailed himself m'^^e piteously 
than before ; and if ever a woman was at her wit's end, 
that distracted female was nurse Periwinkle, during the 
space of two or three minutes, as she vibrated between 
the three beds, like an agitated pendulum. Like a most 
opportune reinforcement, Dan, the handy, appeared, and 
devoted himself to the lively party, leaving me free to 
return to my post ; for the Prussian, with a nod and 
a smile, took the lad away to his own bed, and lulled 
him to sleep with a soothing murmur, like a mammoth 
bumble-bee. I liked that in Fritz, and if he ever won- 
dered afterward at the dainties which sometimes found 
their way into his rations, or the extra comforts of his* 
bed, he might have found a solution of the mystery in 
sundry persons' knowledge of the fatherly action of that 
night. 



HOW THE SOLDIERS '' TOOK THEIR EASE IN 
THEIR INN." 

The mad spirit of destructivene«s and the love of 
mischief, were often displayed in the army, especially 
in that portion of it under General Sherman's command, 
when any position was captured which had served as 
an abiding place or headquarters of the officers of the 
rebel army. This disposition was very vividly illus- 
trated at '' Big Shanty," a station on the route between 
Chattanooga and Atlanta, in Sherman's Atlanta cam- 



374 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

paign. A correspondent of the Tribune thus describes 
the scene : 

At Big Shanty, on the Atlanta line of railroad, stands 
quite a respectable looking two-storied wooden hotel, 
which in peace times was used as the dinner station for 
the famished passengers travelling from Chattanooga, 
Tennessee, to Atlanta, Georgia. 

On Friday, while some of our cavalry were out on a 
reconnoissance, shelling the woods, one of our shells 
passed through a part of the hotel, entering a large 
sleeping apartment containing some eight or ten bed- 
steads, and passing through the bedstead out of the 
south side of the room, the shell burst in the yard. At 
»this time, several rebel officers were partaking leisurely 
of a sumptuous dinner, and, without waiting for orders, 
they changed their base, retiring in the wildest confu- 
sion. Several ladies were in the hotel at the time this 
unruly " Yankee" messenger entered, and one of them 
was in the room through which the shell whizzed on its 
deadly errand, but fortunately the fuse was long enough 
to prevent its explosion for several seconds, thereby 
saving the terrified woman's life. 

Upon the arrival of our advance at Big Shanty, this 
hotel, which was quite well furnished for this section of 
the country, was guarded. The owners having aban- 
doned the property the guard was relieved, and in less 
than half an hour the rooms were filled, yes, the hotel 
was fairly besieged with soldiers representing every 
arm of the service, with a sprinkling of negro servants, 
the rough crowd all intent upon getting "something 
good to eat," while another portion was bent upon mis- 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITA' . C < -J 

chief. Such scenes as were there enacted, and such a 
terrible realization of Pandemonium, no artist's facile 
pencil, or this feeble pen, can half portray. Up-stairs, 
down-stairs, inside, outside, kitchen, dining-room, parlor, 
and bedroom, all shared the general tumult, and not a 
cobwebbed nook escaped overhauling from these inquisi- 
tive " mudsills." 

In the parlor was a fine piano, drummed and played 
upon alternately, with a boisterous crowd of soldiers 
leaning upon it, each one shouting for some particular 
tune expressive of their musical tastes. " Give us Glory 
Hallelujah," shouts one. " No, that's played out," says 
another. ''Play Rally Round the Flag." '-Pshaw! 
give us a jig," and thus it went, a perfect jargon of sound 
filling the- apartment, while in one corner of the room 
two soldiers were at work winding up and causing an 
old clock to strike. Look into the entry with me, and 
see the scrambling of fifty soldiers over a barrel of flour 
and a barrel of sugar and molasses, while feather beds 
are torn to pieces. One mischievous fellow has found 
the dinner bell, and yells out " Fifteen minutes for din- 
ner." Another has discovered a string of cow bells, 
and at once strives to drown the inharmonious sounds 
of his rivals. 

With the drumming of the piano, the striking clock, 
the blowing of horns, the rattling of dishes, the ringing 
of cow and dinner bells, the clatter of a sewing ma- 
chine, and the wrangling of soldiers over the spoils, 
the ear was appalled and deafened, furniture, bedding, 
cooking utensils, books, pictures, china-ware, ladies' 
wearing apparel, hoop skirts and bonnets, were thrown 
together in promiscuous heaps with all sorts of dirty 
rubbish. 



376 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 



INCIDENTS OF GRIERSON'S RAID. 

While several of the Union scouts were feeding their 
horses at the stables of a wealthy planter of secession 
proclivities, the proprietor looking on, apparently deeply 
interested in the proceeding, suddenly burst out with : 
*' Well, boys, I can't say I have any thing against you. 
I don't know but on the whole, I rather like you. You 
have not taken any thing of mine except a little corn 
for your horses, and that you are welcome to. I have 
heard of you all over the country. You are doing the 
boldest thing ever done. But you'll be trapped, though ; 
you'll be trapped ; mark me," 

At another place, where the men thought it advisa- 
ble to represent themselves as Jackson's cavalry, a whole 
company was very graciously entertained by a strong 
secession lady, who insisted on whipping a negro because 
he did not bring the hoe cakes fast enough. 

On one occasion, seven of Colonel Grierson's scouts 
stopped at the house of a wealthy planter, to feed their 
jaded horses. Upon ascertaining that he had been 
doing a little guerilla business upon his own account, 
our men encouraged hini to the belief that, as they were 
the invincible Van Dorn cavalry, they would soon catch 
the Yankees, The secession gentleman heartily ap- 
proved of what he supposed to be their intentions, and 
enjoined upon them the necessity of making as rapid 
marches as possible. As the men had discovered two 
splendid carriage horses in the planter's stable, they 
thought, under the circumstances, they would be justified 



^RMY LIFE IN CAMP. FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 377 

in making an exchange, which they accordingly pro- 
ceeded to do. 

As they were taking the saddles from their own tired 
steeds and placing them on the backs of the guerilla s 
horses, the proprietor discovered them, and at once ob- 
jected. He was met with the reply that, as he w^as 
anxious that the Yankees should be speedily overtaken, 
those after them should have good horses. 

"All right, gentlemen," said the planter ; " I will keep 
your animals until you return ; I suppose you'll be back 
in two or three days at the farthest. When you return 
you'll find they have been well cared for." 

The soldiers were sometimes asked where they got 
their blue coats. They always replied, if they were 
travelling under the name of Van Dorn's cavalry, that 
they took them at Holly Springs of the Yankees. This 
always excited great laughter among the secessionists. 
The scouts, however, usually wore the regular "secesh" 
uniforms. 



FORAGING. 

Nothing in the excitement of army life has been the 
cause of more sport than the liberty given under certain 
circumstances, and taken under others, for the private 
soldier to "forage." In civilized warfare, ordinarily, 
the supplying of the troops with necessary food from the 
enemy's country is supposed to be a systematic business 
operation, conducted by the officers of the army of occu- 
pation, by requisition, either in money or produce, for 



378 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

which receipts of greater or less value are given. In a 
civil war, the supplies are to be paid for, according to 
the tenor of the receipt, on proof of the loyalty of the 
party furnishing them to the government of the captors. 
But in actual practice, there is a large amount of private 
plundering, which army officers, though they may cen- 
sure, find it convenient to wink at. The men may have 
been on hard and unpalatable fare for days or weeks, 
and it is nearly impossible to prevent them from taking 
pigs, chickens, etc, when they are in a vicinity where 
they abound. The plunder and destruction of other 
valuables, such as watches, jewelry, clothing, musical 
instruments, books, and the burning of houses, etc., as 
it was practiced by the ''bummers" or camp followers 
of Sherman's army, is an outrage on civilized warfare, 
and is a just ground of bitter reproach to the adminis- 
tration of that very able commander. Some of the 
foraging stories are, however, full of humor, and could 
hardly be otherwise regarded than as excellent jokes, 
even by the sufferers themselves. We subjoin a few. 

Drawixg Ratioxs. — There are some episodes in the 
life of a soldier provocative of laughter, and that serve 
to disperse, in some manner, the ennui of camp life. A 
farmer, who did not reside so fai' from a camp of '' the 
boys" as he wished he did, was accustomed to find every 
morning that several rows of potatoes had disappeared 
from the field. He bore it for some time, but when the 
last of his fine field of kidneys began to disappear, he 
thought the thing had gone far enough, and determined 
to stop it. Accordingl}', he made a visit to camp early 
next morning, and amused himself by going round to see 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 379 

whether the soldiers were provided with good and 
wholesome provisions. He had not proceeded far, when 
he found a " boy" just serving up a fine dish of kidneys, 
which looked marvellously like those that the good wife 
brought to his own table. Halting, the following col- 
loquy ensued : 

" Have fine potatoes here, I see." 

'^ Splendid," was the reply. 

" Where do you get them ?" 

^' Draw them." 

" Does government furnish potatoes for rations ?" 

'' Nary tater." 

'' I thought you said you drew them ?" 

'' Did. We just do that thing." 

'* But how ? if they are not included in your rations." 

*' Easiest thing in the world — wont you take some 
with us ?" said the soldier, as he seated himself opposite 
the smoking vegetables. 

'' Thank you. But will you oblige me by telling how 
you draw your potatoes, as they are not found by the 
commissary ?" 

"Nothing easier. Draw 'em by the tops mostly! 
Sometimes by a hoe — if there's one left in the field." 

" Hum ! ha ! Yes ; I understand. Well, now, see 
here ! If you wont draw any more of mine, I will bring 
you a basketful every morning, and draw them myself!" 

'•Bully for you, old fellow!" was the cry, and three 
cheers and a tiger were given for the farmer. 

The covenant was duly observed, and no one but the 
farmer drew potatoes from that field afterward. 

k 



880 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

That Pig. — A few nights since, as two of the regi- 
ments were at Annapolis Junction, on their way here, 
a mischievous soldier, who was placed on guard at some 
distance from the main body, as he was walking his 
rounds, shot a pig. A member of the other regiment, 
hearing the report, hastened to the spot, and demanded 
that the pig should be divided, or he would inform his 
officers. The prize was accordingly ''partitioned," and 
served up to the friends of each party. The officers, 
however, observing the bones, soon found out the guilty 
party ; and, on questioning him, he replied that he did 
it in obedience to the orders he had received, "' not to 
let any one pass without the countersign." He saw the 
pig coming toward him, and challenged it ; but, receiv- 
ing no answer, he charged bayonet on it, and, the pig 
still persisting, he shot it. The officers laughed heartily 
at the explanation, and sent him to find the owner, and 
pay for the pig, which he states was the hardest job he 
ever performed. 

In the summer of 1861, a regiment of light infantry 
from the vicinity of Norway, Maine, were encamped in 
Washington for a few days. Two of the men had be- 
come dissatisfied with their fare, and they conceived the 
sublimely impudent idea of foraging on the President's 
rations. How they did it is related as follows : 

They proceeded directly to the President's house. 
Without ceremony they wended their way quietly into 
the broad kitchen — " bowing to a tall man" on their pas- 
sage — and carefully selecting what they thought Avould 
''go round," made the following speech to the cook : 

" Look here; we've sworn to support the government ; 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 381 

for three days we've done it on salt junk; now if you 
would spare us a little of this it would put the tlii7ig along 
amazingly. 

It is needless* to say that the boys had an abundance 
that day. 

How A Yankee Soldier kept a Hotel in Dixie. — 
When General Banks' army moved on up the Shenan- 
doah valley from New Market, Quartermaster-Sergeant 
Eeuben W. Oliver, of Cochran's New York battery, had 
to be temporarily left in a barn, on account of injuries 
he had received. Soon after our departure he made 
application at the lady's house adjoining for board ; but 
he was informed, in true Virginia style, that she did 
not board ''Yankee barbarians." 

*'Very well," replied Oliver, "if you wont board me 
I shall keep a hotel in your barn, but shall probably 
call upon you occasionally for supplies ;" and he hobbled 
back to the barn. 

Oliver was every inch a soldier, and he went to 
work at once. Taking a revolver, he shot madam's 
finest young porker, which his assistant immediately 
dressed. His able assistant next went to the apiary 
and '' took us" a hive of bees, and transferred the honey 
to the barn. He then went to the lot and milked a pail 
of milk from her ladyship's cows. Then, going to her 
servants' house, he made a '' requisition" for a quantity 
of fresh corn-dodgers that had been prepared for supper. 
The addition of these articles to his ordinary rations 
placed him far beyond the point of starvation. 

True to his Yankee instincts, he invited the lady to 
take tea with him, at the hotel across the way — at 



382 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

which she became spitefully indignant. But Oliver was 
as happy as a lark, and for the time almost forgot his 
injuries. 

Soon he had several sick soldiers added to his list 
of boarders; and in due time a sheep, and another 
young porker, and a second hive of bees, were gathered 
under the roof of his " hotel ;" and furthermore, not a 
cock remained to proclaim when the morning dawned. 
By this time her ladyship thought she could " see it," 
and sent for Oliver, who, as promptly as the nature of 
his injuries would permit, reported at the door. 

'' See here, young man," said she, " I perceive that it 
would be cheaper for me to board you in my house — 
and, if you will accept, you can have board and a room 
free." 

" Thank you, madam, thank you," replied Oliver, re- 
moving his cap and bowing politely ; ". but I prefer 
boarding at a first-class Yankee hotel to stopping at any 
secession house in Virginia at the same price. You 
will therefore be so kind as to excuse me for declining 
your generous offer, as it comes too late !" And back 
he hobbled to the barn — and actually remained there 
two weeks — taking in and boarding every sick soldier 
that came along ; making frequent " requisitions" upon 
her for supplies. 

Her ladyship was mightily pleased when Oliver's 
Yankee hotel was discontinued; but it taught her a 
valuable lesson, and Yankee soldiers never thereafter 
applied to her in vain for food and shelter. They 
always got what they wanted, she evidently not relish- 
ing the Yankee hotel system. 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 383 

Foraging for Whiskey. — The appetite for strong 
drink was so fierce among some of the soldiers, that 
they would resort to all kinds of expedients to obtain 
it. At the commencement of the war, when the troops 
were encamped near Washington, in spite of the most 
stringent orders many would get intoxicated ; and it 
was found that it was smuggled into camp in gun bar- 
rels. At Falmouth, before the battle of Fredericksburg, 
General Burnside ordered several hundred barrels of 
commissary Avhiskey to be sent down from Washington 
to Acquia creek. Lieutenant , of the Twenty- 
ninth New York, acting brigadier commissary in Getty's 
division, sent repeatedly to the creek for a supply ; but 
every barrel that was furnished here would disappear 
from the cars before reaching Falmouth, rumor having 
it that the roguish Hawkins' Zouaves had ''gobbled" 
them. At length, despairing of obtaining any of the 
stufi" by order, he proceeded personally to Acquia creek 
for a supply. He obtained one barrel, and standing it 
up in the car, seated himself upon the top of the barrel, 
confident that no one would get that away from him. 
What was his dismay, on springing down to the plat- 
form at Falmouth, to find the barrel empty ! Some in- 
genious soldiers had bored a hole up through the bottom 
of the car while the train halted at Potomac creek or 
Burke's station, tapped the barrel, and drained it to the 
dregs ! 



Foraging by Veteran Soldiers. — In March, 1862, 
in the advance upon Winchester, Brigadier-General 
Abercrombie commanded the first brigade, having 
Cochran's battery with it. Abercrombie was very strict, 



384 ARMY LIFE IX CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

not allowing his men to forage. The next morning 
after we camped near Berry ville, the general rode 
through the battery. The captain was in his tent. 
Approaching it, he discovered the quarters of a fine 
young beef that the men had "' foraged" the previous 
nisht. lyins: a2;ainst a tree. The seneral's brow con- 
tracted as he demanded of Sergeant Leander E. Davis : 

•• Where the d — 1 did you get that beef? I gave the 
commissary no orders to issue fresh beef here." 

Davis, who was a very polite soldier, removed his cap, 
and saluted the general, saying, in a tone evincing per- 
fect coolness and sincerity : 

•• General, I was sergeant of the guard last night, and 
about ten o'clock I heard a terrible commotion in the 
camp of the Twelfth Massachusetts, Colonel Webster's 
regiment, across the road. I rushed out to see w-hat 
was going on, and just as I passed the captain's tent I 
saw a fine steer coming through the camp of the Twelfth 
Massachusetts, with about a hundred men after it. The 
animal appeared very much frightened, general, and, 
true as you live, it jumped clear across the road (about 
two rods), over both stone fences, and as it alighted in 
this lot it struck its head against this tree, and bemg so 
terribly scared, its head. hide, and legs kept right on 
running, while the quartei^s dropped down here, where 
they have remained ever since. It is very fine, tender 
beef, general, and I had just come here for the purpose 
of cutting ofi* and sending you a fine sirloin roast for 
dinner. Will you be so obliging as to accept of it ?" 

•* How Ions; have vou been a soldier?" demanded the 
old general. 

'•'About six months general." 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND nOSPlTAL. 385 

*• Well, sir, I perceive that you thoroughly appreciate 
the art of war, and have become ^veteran in half a yetxv. 
Were you a green soldier I should order you under 
arrest, and have you court-martialed ; but, on account 
of your veteran proclivities, I shall recommend you for 
promotion !" and putting spurs to his horse he rode 
away, shaking his sides with laughter. 



Making a Clean Sweep. — If the practice of plun- 
dering the house of an enemy of all its provisions were 
ever justifiable, it would seem to have been partially so 
in the following instance, which is related by a veteran 
of the Army of the Cumberland : 

We had had but a scanty allow^ance of food for 
several days, and the boys were getting to be pretty 
wolfish. Not far from our camp — by the way, this was 
down in Tennessee, in '62 — there was a large rebel 
plantation, with a fine house, which the niggers said 
was actually overstocked with every thing nice. Some 
of the boys went there to try and raise something to eat 
Several very stylish-looking ladies came out on the por- 
tico ; but when we asked them for food — gracious ! — 
how they abused us ! It was perfectly savage ! They 
presented pistols, and said they'd blow out our brains, 
and in fact '' carried on" as only " reb" women can. Well 
— we retreated. 

About an hour after. Major W and several other? 

of our ofiicers went to the same house, w^here the ladies 
gave them a luncheon, and at the same time provoked 
and annoyed them as much as possible, by giving an 
exaggerated account of the manner in which they had, 

2.5 V, 



886 ARMY LIFE IN GAMP. FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

as they said, driven off a band of Federal thieves that 
morning, and scared them to death with rusty and un- 
loaded old pistols. They didn't spare the major, and in- 
sulted him by ridiculing his soldiers, until he was as 
mad as a hornet. 

I don't know how it was, but, soon after the major 
got back to camp, somebody proposed to shell that 
house out. Down we went with a rush. The ladies 
came out in a rage, and flourished their old pistols, and 
abused us like street-walkers ; but it was all of no use. 
The boys swarmed like bees into the cellar ; and I tell 
you, it was the best filled house I ever foraged on. 
What they ever intended to do with such supplies of 
canned fruits and meats, such rows on rows of hams, 
and barrels of every thing nice, I can't imagine. The 
boys filled bags, and sheets, and blankets, and w^heeled 
the plunder off, or carried it — '• like good fellows." 

Of course the ladies sent ofi' post haste to Major 

W , to come and stop this business. He was a very 

long time in coming — very. I think that the messenger 
must have had a hard time to find him. And when he 
got there he didn't speak to any of us, and seemed to be 
rather slow in taking in the whole story from the ladies. 
When he had heard them out — and it takes a long time 
for an angry woman to say all that she has to say — he 
bowed, and said : " Ladies, I will see to it at once." 
So down he came, and began to rate us in this style : 

''Men, what do you mean by such infernal conduct? 
Stop your pillaging at once T {Then aside.) '* I hope 
you've cleaned the place out, d — n it!" [Aloud.) 
••Put down that bag of potatoes, you scoundrel!" 
{Asi^.) ''And roll off that barrel of sugar, you d — d 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 387 

fool!" (Aloud.) '• If I catch jon foraging again in this 
fashion, I'll make 3^011 repent it." {Amle.) " Pitch 
into the grub, boys ! — there's a whole chest of tea in 
that dark corner !" 

As the major went up-stairs, the cellar was empty. 
The last thing I heard him say to the ladies was, that 
"/iis men should never forage there again ;" and his last 
aside — '' I don't think they've left a single d — d thing 
to steal." 



Thf. Pen Mightier than the Sword. — While the 
Army of the Potomac was making its way into Virginia, 
a party of soldiers, hungry and fierce, had just reached 
a rail fence, tied their horses, and pitched their officera' 
tents, when four pigs incautiously approached the 
camp. The men, on noticing them, immediately de- 
cided on their capture. They stationed two parties, 
one at each end of a V in the fence, with rails to com- 
plete the two sides of a square ; two men were then sent 
to scatter corn before the pigs, and lead them along in- 
side the V, when the square was finished and the pigs 
penned. A cavalry officer, whose men had attempted 
their destruction with their sabres, came up, and said to 
the army correspondent who tells the story, "Ah 1 the 
pen is still mightier than the sioord r 



General Payne, of Illinois, commanded a brigade in 
the Army of the Cumberland, composed of Ohio and 
Illinois troops. A soldier of the Seventy-ninth sent to 
the Dayton (Ohio) Jouiiialj the following in reference to 
this officer : 



388 ARMY LIFE IX CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

The Rebellion must be Squelched. — One day a 
M-enlthy old ladj, whose plantation was in the vicinity 
of camp, came in and inquired for General Payne. 
When the commander made his appearance, the old 
lady ill warm language at once acquainted him with the 
fact that his men had stolen her last coopful of chickens, 
and demanded their restitution, or their value in cur- 
rency. 

" I am sorry for you, madam," replied the general ; 
'•but I can't help it. The fact is, ma'am, we are deter- 
mined to squelch out this unholy rebellion, if it ta'Kes 
every d — d chicken in Tennessee." 

This exhibition of utter recklesness of means for the 
accomplishment of a purpose which the old lady deemed 
most foul, temporarily deprived her of the power of 
speech, and she passed from the presence of the general 
without asserting her right — the last word. 



A Dark Shadow. — A captain in front of Petersburg 
writes : 

Last March, our regiment (the Twenty-second United 
States Colored Troops) was on rather a wild raid in King 
and Queen county, Virginia. As the raid was intended as a 
punishment for the brutal murder of the gallant young 
Dahlgren, the men were allowed much more liberty than 
is common even on such occasions, and great was the 
havoc inflicted upon the natives, in the way of private 
excursions among the hen-houses, and manj^ were the 
remark* created among the " smokes." One enterpris- 
ing fellow brought in with his supply of poultry an ex- 



. ^^;f ^^^Sl'kw' r' iMmiWfi 




ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 389 

ceedingly lean and thin hen. This fact being observed 
by one of his comrades, gave rise to the following re- 
mark : 

" Golly ! I tho't I's berry good forr'ger, but nebber 
seen a man afore could cotch de shadder of a hen !" 



ADVENTURE OF A SPY. 

T HAVE lately returned from the South, but my exact 
whereabouts in that region, for obvious reasons, it would 
not be politic to state. Suspected of being a Northerner, 
it was often my advantage to court obscurity. Known 
as a spy, " a short shrift" and a ready rope would have 
prevented the blotting of this paper. Planging, dis- 
guised, on the outskirts of a camp, mixing with its 
idlers, laughing at their jokes, examining their arms, 
counting their numbers, endeavoring to discover the 
plans of their leaders, listening to this party and pursu- 
ing that, joining in the chorus of a rebel song, betting 
on rebel success, cursing abolitionism, despising Northern 
fisrhters, lausrhiu!:; at their tactics, and sneerino; at their 
weapons ; praising the beauty of Southern belles and 
decrying that of Northern ; calling New York a den of 
cutthroats and New Orleans a paradise of immaculate 
chivalry, is but a small portion of the practice of my 
profession as a spy. This may not seem honorable nor 
desirable. As to the honor, let the country benefited 
by the investigations and warnings of the spy be judge; 
and the danger, often incurred, is more serious and per- 



390 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

sonal than that of the battle field, which may, perhaps, 
detnict from its desirabilit^^ 

It was a dark night. Not a star on the glimmer. I 
had collected my quotum of intelligence, and was on the 
move for the Northern lines. I was approaching the 
bulks of a stream whose waters I had to cross, and had 
then some miles to traverse before I could reach the 
pickets of our gallant troops. A feeling of uneasiness 
began to creep over me ; I was on the outskirt of a wood 
fringing the dark waters at my feet, whose presence 
could scarcely be detected but for their sullen murmurs 
as they rushed through the gloom. The wind sighed in 
gentle accordance. I walked forty or fifty yards along 
the bank. I then crept on all tours along the ground, 
and groped with my hands. I paused — I groped again 
— my breath thickened — perspiration oozed from every 
pore, and I was prostrated with horror. I had missed 
my landmark, and knew not where I w^as. Below or 
above, beneath the shelter of the bank, lay the skiff I 
had hidden ten days before, when I commenced my 
operations among the followers of Jeff. Davis. 

As I stood gasping for breath, with all the unmistaka- 
ble proofs of my calling about me, the sudden cry of a 
bird, or plunging of a fish, would act like magnetism 
upon my frame, not wont to shudder at a shadow. No 
matter how pressing the danger may be, if a man sees 
an opportunity of escape he l>reathes with freedom. 
But let him be surrounded by darkness, impenetrable 
at two yards' distance, within rifle's length of concealed 
foes, for what knowledge he has to the contrary ; know- 
ing too, with painful certainty, the detection of his pre- 
sence would reward him with a sudden and violent 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 391 

death, and if he breathes no faster, he is more fitted for 
a hero than I am. 

In the agony of that moment — in the sudden and 
utter helplessness I felt to discover my true bearings — 
I was about to let myself gently into the stream, and 
breast its current for life or death. There was no alter- 
native. The Northern pickets must be reached in safety 
before the morning broke, or I should soon swing be- 
tween heaven and earth, from some green limb in the 
dark forest in which I stood. 

At that moment the low, sullen bay of a bloodhound 
struck my ear. The sound was reviving — the fearful 
stillness broken. The uncertain dread flew before the 
certain danger. I was standing to my middle in the 
shallow bed of the river, just beneath the jutting banks. 
After a pause of a few seconds, I began to creep mechan- 
ically and stealthily down the stream, followed, as I 
knew, from the rustling of the grass and frequent break- 
ing of twigs, by the insatiable brute ; although, by cer- 
tain uneasy growls, I felt assured he was at fault. 
Something struck against my breast. I could not 
prevent a slight cry from escaping me, as, stretching out 
my hand, I grasped the gunwale of a boat moored be- 
neath the bank. Between surprise and joy I felt half 
choked. 

In an instant I had scrambled on board, and began 
to search for the painter in the bow, in order to cast her 
from her fastenings. Suddenly a bright ray of moon- 
light — the first gleam of hope in that black night — fell 
directly on the spot, revealing the silvery stream, my 
own skiff (hidden there ten days before), lighting the 
deep shadows of the verging wood, and, on the log half 



392 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSTITAL. 

buried in the bank, and jfrom which I had that instant 
cast the line that had bound me to it, the supple form 
of the crouching bloodhound, his red eyes gleaming in 
the moonlight, jaws distended, and poising for the 
spring. With one dart the light skiff was yards out in 
the stream, and the savage after it. With an oar I -aimed 
a blow at his head, which, however, he eluded with case. 
In the effort thus made, the boat careened over toward 
my antagonist, who made a desperate effort to get his 
fore paws over the side, at the same time seizing the 
gunwale with his teeth. Now or never was my time. 
I drew my revolver, and placed the muzzle between his 
eyes, but hesitated to fire, for that one report might 
bring on me a volley from the shore. Meantime the 
strength of the dog careened the frail craft so much 
that the water rushed over the side, threatening to 
swamp her. I changed my tactics, threw my revolver 
into the bottom of the skiff, and grasping my " Bowie," 
keen as a Malay creese, and glittering as I released it 
from the sheath, like a moonbeam on the stream. In. 
an instant I had severed the sinewy throat of the 
hound, cutting through brawn and muscle to the nape 
of the neck. The tenacious wretch gave a wild, convul- 
sive leap half out of the water, then sank and was gone. 
Five minutes' pulling landed me on the other side of the 
river, and in an hour after I was among friends within 
the Northern lines. 



General Pope and the Assistant Secretary of 
War. — A correspondent of ^the N. Y. Tribune says : 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 393 

I heard, while at Pillow, an anecdote of General Pope 
— an officer of ability, but sometimes a very unpleasant 
man, with a pompous and hectoring manner — which will 
bear repetition. While at his headquarters, the general 
was approached by a rather small, plain-looking, and 
entirely unassuming man, in citizen's attire, with the 
question: "Are you General Pope, sir?" 

" That is my name," was the answer, in rather a 
repelling tone. 

" I would like to see you, then, on a matter of busi- 
ness." 

" Call on my adjutant, sir. He will arrange any 
business you may have." 

"But I wish to have a personal conversation with 
you." 

" See my adjutant," in an authoritative voice. 

" But—" 

" Did I not tell you to see my adjutant? Trouble me 
no more, sir;" and Pope was about walking away. 

" My name is Scott, general," quietly remarked the 
small, plain man. 

" Confound you ! What do I care," thundered Pope, 
in a rising passion, "if your name is Scott, or Jones, or 
Jenkins, or Snooks, for the matter of that? See my 
adjutant, I tell you, fellow ! Leave my presence !" 

'I am," continued the quiet man, in his quiet way, 
" the Assistant Secretary of War, and — " 

What a revolution those simple words made in the 
general's appearance and manner ! 

His angry, haughty, domineering air was dispelled in 
a moment, and a flush of confusion passed over his 
altered face. 



394 ARMY LITE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

" I beg your pardon, Mr. vScott, I had do idea whom 
I was addressing. Pray be seated ; I shall be happy to 
grant you an interview at any time." 

Possibly a very close observer might have seen a faint, 
half contemptuous smile on the Secretary's lips; though 
he said nothing, but began to unfold his business with- 
out comment. 

After that unique interview. Pope and the Assistant 
Secretary were very frequently together, and I venture 
to say the latter had no reason subsequently to complain 
of the general's rudeness. 



THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT IN THE ARMY. 

It is well known that some of our bravest and most 
efficient of the Union generals were men of undoubted 
and pre-eminent piety. General Howard maintained the 
lustre of his Christian profession amid the most trying 
scenes which a soldier could be called to encounter. Gen- 
eral Burnside was also known as a decided Christian; and 
many of the division and brigade commanders were re- 
markable for their deeply religious character. Mr. 
William Swinton, author of the " History of the Army 
of the Potomac," relates some incidents in regard to Gen- 
eral Couch and General Rosecrans, which demonstrate 
the power of the religious sentiment in their characters. 

" Never," says Mr. Swinton, ^' shall I forget how 
General Couch, the commander of the second corps, and 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 395 

successor of General Sumner (that old brave, with the 
courage of a lion and the tenderness of a child), re- 
plied to a question which I put to him as to whether 
he was ever afraid in battle. It was on that dark 
December day when the plains of Fredericksburg were 
lit up with baleful fires, and the placid serenity of tlie 
general amid the winged messengers of death prompted 
the question. I should strive in vain to convey the 
tender and unaffected grace of his words and manner; 
but, looking heavenward, he said : "No; for in battle I 
always see the figure of Christ in the slaj r 

This recalls a somewhat similar anecdote respecting 
General Rosecrans, which was told me by the staff 
officer mentioned below, and which I believe has not 
before been in print. It is well known that General 
Rosecrans is a Catholic, and a devout and fervent 
Christian. At the battle of Stone river, the day for a 
time went against him. The whole right wing was dis- 
rupted, and irretrievable disaster seemed imminent. 
The commander constantly rushed to the front to ani- 
mate his men by his presence — and on one occasion, 
when about to dash forward to a position of peculiar 
peril, one of his aides, young Captain Thompson, pro- 
tested against his thus exposing himself " 0, my 
boy," was Rosecrans' repl}'', " maize the sign of the true 
cross, and let us go in f Thus, unconsciously, that 
illustrious soldier, perhaps the greatest strategist of the 
war, uttered almost the very maxim of Constantine, 
In hoc signo vinces — in that sign shalt thou conquer. I 
afterward made with him that wondrous campaign from 
Murfreesboro to Chattanooga. Every move was pre- 



396 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

ceded by religious exercises ; and I could well see, in 
his manifestations of deep and fervent pietj^, that a 
higher inspiration than the blazon of martial glory 
moved him — that it was truly in that sign that he 
sought to conquer. 

The same writer says of Captain G. W. Rodgers, of 
the Catskill, U. S. N. : 

Of the officers of the fleet to which Captain Rodgers 
belonged — the North Atlantic blockading squadron, un- 
der Admiral Dupont — I scarcely knew one that was not 
either a sincere Christian or at least a respecter of re- 
liorion, RodQ;ers was one of its briohtest ornaments. I 
lived on board his vessel, the Catskill, for several weeks 
previous to his death, and had sounded the depths of 
his tender and pious nature. Latterly there was seen 
in him a stranore unworldliness that seemed to withdraw 
him from life, lifting him above the coils and confusions 
of this " weary and unintelligible world ;" and there 
was seen that in his mood and manner which struck his 
friends with the sad premonition that he was not long 
to move amons; us. Yet this took awav none of his 
alacrity in the discharge of his duty, and in the iron- 
clad assault on Fort Sumter that soon followed, he ran 
his vessel far ahead of his fellows, and laid it almost 
under the frowninor battlements of the fort. The assault 
failed, and I spent the night with him in his cabin. It 
was expected that the attack would be renewed in the 
morning. Our conversation was prolonged till after 
midnight, and without undressing I lay down. Rodgers 
never retired ; but, when he thought his companion was 



^ 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 397 

asleep, lie took down his Bible, and passed the whole 
remainder of the night on his knees in prayer. The 
assault was not renewed ; but a short time after, in an 
act of heroic daring, he ran his vessel under the very 
guns of Wagner, and was killed by a bolt shot through 
his pilot-house. To my mind he remains forever in 
the pra3'erful attitude in which I saw him on that 

triste noche, 

"A statue solid set, 
And moulded in colossal calm." 



♦ «' ^ « » 



PARSON BROWNLOW'S DAUGHTER 

AND THE REBEL SOLDIERS. 

After the fraudulent vote for secession in Tennessee, 
in June, 1861, the rebels began to annoy and insult 
Parson Brownlow and his family. His house, up to 
midsummer of that year, floated the American flag, 
though many an attempt was made to drag it down. 
Early in June a Louisiana regiment, en route for Vir- 
ginia, tarried at Knoxville, awaiting transportation over 
the railway, then crowded beyond its capacity. The 
parson says, in his record of the events of that year : 

'• These mean scoundrels visited the houses of Union 
men, shouted at them, groaned and hissed. My humble 
dwelling had the honor to be thus greeted oftener than 
any other five houses in Knoxville. The Southern 
papers said they were the flower of their youth. I said 
to my wife, if this is the flower, God save us from the 
rabble." 



398 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

Upon one of these occasions nine members of the 
Louisiana regiment determined to see the flag humbled. 
Two men were chosen as a committee to proceed to the 
parson's house to order the Union ensign down. Mrs. 
More (the parson's daughter) answered the summons. 
In answer to her inquiry as to what was their errand, 
one said, rudely : 

" We have come to take down that d — d rag you 
flaunt from your roof — the Stripes and Stars." 

Mrs. More stepped back a pace or two within the 
door, drew a revolver from her dress pocket, and levell- 
ing it, answered : 

" Come on, sirs, and take it down !" 

The chivalrous Confederates were startled. 

" Yes, come on !" she said, as she advanced toward 
them. 

They cleared the piazza, and stood at bay on the 
walk. 

" We'll go and get more men, and then d— d if it 
don't come down !" 

'* Yes, go and get more men — you are not men !" said 
the heroic woman, contemptuously, as the two backed 
from the place and disappeared. 



GENERAL BANKS 

AND THE MILITARY SPECULATORS. 

Correspondents universally accord to General Banks 
the creditof being " faithful among the faithless" — perhaps 
the only prominent man in his department in Government 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 399 

employ who is not grasping after the spoils. One writer 
records the following specimen scene at the general's 
headquarters : 

Enter an ex-colonel of a Massachusetts regiment, and 
after waiting for an interview, a colloquy something like 
the following occurs : 

Ex-colonel. — " Good-morning, general." 

G&neral B. — " Good-morning, sir ; I am very happy to 
Bee you." 

Ex-colonel. — " General, I called to ask for a pass to go 
to New Iberia." 

General B. — ^^ Your name is " 

Ex-colonel. — ^'Yes, sir." 

General B. — '' You were colonel of the Massachusetta 
Regiment ?" 



Ex-colonel. — " Yes, sir." 

General B. — "And you resigned your commission to 
engage in speculation?" *" 

Ex-colonel. — " Why, general, you would not suppose 
I should continue in the service when I saw a chance 
to make twenty or thirty thousand dollars in a few 
months !" 

General B. — '' Sir, I did not come here to make money 
by speculation, and it is because men like yourself are 
willing to see my command broken up, if they can 
accomplish their own purposes, that this Department is 
in no better condition to-day. I give no passes to New 
Iberia, sir, and especially I shall not grant one to you. 
Good-morning, sir." 

Exit ex-colonel evidently considering how he should 
get to New Iberia without General Banks' pass. 



400 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD. AND HOSPITAL. 



A WOMAN'S PLUCK AND PATRIOTISM. 

An interesting incident is told concerning the inde- 
pendent and successlid stand taken by a Union woman 
in New Orleans, in 1861. She and her husband, a 
Mississippi steamboat captain, occupied the middle front 
room of the lowest range of sleeping apartments in the 
St. Charles Hotel, at the tiine when the city was to be 
illuminated in honor of secession. She refused to allow 
the illuminating candles to be fixed in the windows of 
her room, and the proprietors remonstrated in vain, she 
finally ordering them to leave tlie room, of which she 
claimed, while its occupant, to have entire contiol. The 
rest of the story is thus told : 

Determined not to be outdone in a matter of such grave 
importance,, the captain, who was not in the room during 
the above proceedings, w^as next found and appealed to. 
He heard their case ; said his wife had reported him 
correctly on the Union question, nevertheless, he would 
go wdth them to the room, and see if the matter could 
be amicably arranged. The captain's disposition to 
yield was not to be seconded by his better half. The 
proprietors next proposed to vacate the best chamber in 
her favor in some other part of the house, if that would 
be satisfactory ; but the lady's "No !" was still as per- 
emptory as ever. Iler point was gained, and the St. 
Charles was doomed to have a dark front chamber. 
Pleased wdth this triumph, Mrs. devised the fol- 
lowing manoeuvre to make the most of her victory. 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 401 

Summoning a servant, she sent him out to procure for 
her an American jflag, which at dusk she suspended from 
her window. When evening came, the streets, animated 
by a merry throng, were illuminated. But, alas ! the 
St. Charles was disfigured by its sombre chamber, when 
suddenly, a succession of lamps, suspended on both sides 
of the flag, were lit up, revealing the stars and stripes, 
and the ensign of the Union waved from the centre of 
a hotel illuminated in honor of its overthrow. The 
effect was to give the impression that the whole house 
was thus paying homage to the American flag ; and 
what is more significant, is the fact that the flag was 
greeted by the passing crowd with vociferous applause. 
So much for the firmness of a true Union woman. 



GIVING FOR THE WOUNDED SOLDIERS. 

Mrs. D. p. Livermore, one of the acting managers 
of the Northwestern Sanitary Commission, relates the 
following instances of liberal and generous giving to that 
branch of the Sanitary Commission, for the care and 
welfare of the sick and wounded heroes of the army. 

Some two or three months ago, a poor girl, a seam- 
stress, came to the rooms of the Chicago Sanitary Com- 
mission. " I do not feel right," she said, "that I am 
doing nothing for our soldiers in the hospitals, and have 
resolved to do something immediately. Which do you 
prefer — that I should give money, or buy material and 
manufacture it into garments ?" 

26 



402 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

'' You must be guided by your circumstances," was 
the answer made her; "we need both money and sup- 
pUes, and 3^ou must do that which is most convenient 
for you." 

" I prefer to give you money, if it will do as much 
good." 

'' Very well ; then give money, which we need badly, 
and without which we cannot do what is most necessary 
for our brave sick men." 

" Then I will give you the entire earnings of the next 
two weeks. I'd give more, but I have to help support 
my mother, who is an invalid. Generally, I make but 
one vest a day, but I will work earlier and later these 
two weeks." 

In two weeks she came again, the poor sewing girl, 
her face radiant with the consciousness of philanthropic 
intent. Opening her portemonnaie, she counted out — 
how much do you think, reader? — nineteen dollars and 
thirty-seven cents ! Every penny was earned by the 
slow needle, and she had stitched away into the hours 
of midnight, on every one of the working days of the 
week. We call that an instance of patriotism married 
to generosity. 



Some ftirmers' wives in the north of Wisconsin, 
eighteen miles from a railroad, had given to the Com- 
mission of their bed and table linen, their husbands' 
shirts and drawers, their scanty supply of dried and 
canned fruits, till they had exhausted their ability to do 
more in this direction. Still they were not satisfied. 
So they cast about to see what could be done in another 
way. They were all the wives of small farmers, lately 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 403 

moved to the West, living all in log cabins, where one 
room sufficed for kitchen, parlor, laundry, nursery, and 
bedroom, doing their own housework, sewing, baby 
tending, dairy work, and all. What could they do ? 

They were not long in devising a way to gratify the 
longings of their motherly and patriotic hearts, and in- 
stantly set about carrying it into action. They resolved 
to beg wheat of the neighboring farmers, and convert it 
into money. Sometimes on foot, and sometimes with a 
team, amid the snows and mud of early spring, they 
canvassed the country for twenty and twenty-five miles 
around, everywhere eloquently pleading the needs of 
the blue-coated soldier boys in the hospitals, the elo- 
quence everywhere acting as an open sesame to the 
granaries. Now they obtained a little from a rich 
man, and then a great deal from a poor man — deeds of 
benevolence are half the time in an inverse ratio to the 
ability of the benefactors — till they had accumulated 
nearly five hundred bushels of wheat. This they sent 
to market, obtained the highest market price for it, and 
forwarded the proceeds to the Commission. As we held 
this hard-earned money in our hands, we felt that it wae 
consecrated — that the holy purpose of these noble 
women had imparted an almost sacredness to it. 



A LITTLE girl not nine years old, with sweet and 
timid grace, came into the rooms of the Commission, and 
laying a five dollar gold piece on our desk, half fright- 
ened, told us its history. " My uncle gave me that 
before the war, and I was going to keep it always ; but 
he's got killed in the army, and mother says now I may 



404 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIFLD, AND HOSPITAL. 

Sfive it to the soldiers if I want to — and I'd like to do 
so. I don't suppose it will buy much for them — will 
it?" 

We led the child to the storeroom, and proceeded to 
show her how valuable her gift was, by pointing out 
what it would buy — so many cans of condensed niill^, 
or so many bottles of ale, or pounds of tea, or codfish, 
etc. Her face brightened with pleasure. But when we 
explained to her that her five dollar gold piece was equal 
to seven dollars and a half in greenbacks, and told her 
how much comfort we had been enabled to carry into a 
hospital with as small an amount of stores as that sum 
would purchase, she fairly danced for joy. " Oh, it will 
do lots of good, wont it?" And folding her hands 
earnestly before her, she begged, in her charmingly 
modest way, ^' Please tell me something that you've seen 
in the hospitals." A narration of a few touching events, 
not such as would too severely shock the little 
creature, but which plainly showed the necessity of con- 
tinued benevolence to the hospitals, filled her sweet 
eyes with tears, and drew from her the resolution '' to 
save all her money, and to get all the girls to do so, to 
buy things for the wounded soldiers." And away she 
flew, revelling in the luxury of doing good, and happy 
in the formation of a good resolution. 

A ragged little urchin, who thrusts his unkempt pate 
daily into the rooms, with the shrill cry of " Matches ! 
matches !" had stood watching the little girl, and listen- 
ing to the talk. As she disappeared, he fumbled in his 
ragged pocket, and drew out a small handful of crumpled 
and soiled postal currency. '' Here," said he, '^ I'll 
give you so much for them 'ere sick fellers in the hospi- 





Q 

o 

72 




%» 



1 



I 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 405 

tals," and he put fifty-five cents into our hand, all in 
five cent currency. We hesitated. ''No, my boy, 
don't give it. You're a noble little fellow, but I'm afraid 
you can't afford to give so much. You keep it, and I'll 
give the fifty-five cents, or somebody else will." 

" Oh, no," he replied, " you keeji it. P'raps I ain't 
so poor as yer think. My father, he saws wood, and 
my mother, she takes in washin', and I sells matches 
— and p'raps we've got more money than yer think. 
Keep it !" And he turned his dirty, but earnest face 
up to us with a most beseeching look. " Keep it — do !" 

We took the crumpled currency — we forgot the dirty 
face and the tattered cap — we forgot that we had called 
the little scamp a " nuisance," every day for months, 
when he had made us fairly jump from our seat with 
his shrill, unexpected cry of " Matches ! matches !" and 
made a dive at him to kiss him. But he was too quick 
for us, and darted out of the room as if he had been 
shot. Ever since, when he meets us, he gives us a wide 
berth, and walks off the sidewalk into the gutter, eyeing 
us with a suspicious, sidelong glance, as though he sus- 
pected we still meditated kissing intentions toward him. 
If we speak to him, he looks at us shyly, and offers no 
reply — but if we pass him without speaking, he chal- 
lenges us with a hearty " halloo, you !" that brings us 
to a halt instantly. 



The Disappointed Bummer. — In Sherman's march 
through the Carolinas, during the skirmish in front of 



406 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

FayettevUle, one of the captains in the Union army, 
who was m advance of his men, crept, in a citizen's 
coat, up to a fence, in order to get a better look at the 
enemy, who were retreating but firing rapidly. Sud- 
denly he was confronted by a ragged and barefooted 
fellow, whom he instantly recognized as one of the 
'^bummers." The recognition, however, was not re- 
ciprocal, for the "bummer" exulted in the thought 
that he had caught a rebel, and proceeded to salute him 
thus : 

" Halloo ! just stop right thar," surveying his ex- 
tremities. '' I say, come up out of them boots." 

"I couldn't think of it," was the reply; "they are a 
fine pair of boots, and they are mine." 

" You needn't say another d — d word. Come out of 
them boots. P'raps you've got a watch about your 
breeches pocket ; just pull her out. No nonsense, now ; 
I'm in a hurry to get arter them rebs." 

" Perhaps you would like a horse ?" 

"Ahorse?" (the "bummer's" eyes sparkled.) "A 
horse ? Well, now, you jis' come up out of them boots, 
and we'll discuss that ar' boss question sudden. Where 
is the boss?" 

*' Oh, he is right near by, in charge of my orderly." 

"Thunder! are you an officer of our army? I 
thought you was a reb." 

And then the "bummer" went to the rear under 
arrest, disgusted beyond measure. 



A Sergeant Halts a Whole Regiment. — Among the 
beauties of the war in Western Virginia was the 



ARMY LIFE IX CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 407 

^' mixed up" way in which the combatants manoeuvre 
among the mountains. Here is an incident in which a 
single loyal soldier halted an entire rebel regiment : 

Sergeant Cart, of Tippecanoe, Ohio, was upon the 
post first attacked by the enemy. The advance-guard 
of the Second Virginia (rebel), consisting of twelve men, 
came suddenly upon him and his three companions. 
The bright moonlight revealed the flashing bayonets of 
the advancing regiment. He was surrounded and 
separted from his reserve. With great presence of 
mind he stepped out and challenged, ^'-Haltl Who 
goes there ?" The advanced guard, supposing they had 
come upon a scouting party of their own men, answered, 
" Friends, with the countersign." At his order, "Advance 
and give the countersign !" they hesitated. He repeated 
the order peremptorily, ''Advance and give the counter- 
sign, or I'll blow you through !" They answered, with- 
out advancing, '' Mississippi !" " Where do you belong ?" 
he demanded. " To the Second Virginia Regiment." 
" Where are you going T "Along the ridge." They in 
turn, questioned him, " Who are you f " That's my 
own business," he answered, and, taking deliberate aim, 
shot down the questioner. 

Calling his boys to follow him, he sprung down a 
ledge of rocks, while a full volley went over his head. 
He heard his companions summoned to surrender, and 
the order given to the major to advance with the regi- 
ment. Several started in pursuit of him. He had to 
descend the hill on the side toward the enemy's camp. 
While thus eluding his pursuers, he found himself in a 
new danger. He had got within the enemy's pickets ! 



408 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

He had, while running, torn the U. S. from his car- 
tridge box, and covered his belt plate with his cap 
box, and torn the stripes from his pantaloons. He was 
challenged by their sentinels, while making his way 
out, and answered, giving the countersign, '' ' Mis- 
sissippi,' Second Virginia Regiment." They asked him 
what he was doing there. He answered that the hoys 
had gone off on a scout after the Yankees, while he had 
been detained in camp, and in trying to find them had 
lost his way. 

As he passed through, to prevent further questioning, 
he said, " Our boys are upon tlie ridge — which is the 
best way up?" They answered, "Bear to the left and 
you'll find it easier to climb." Soon, however, his pur- 
suers w^ere again after him, " breaking brush behind 
him," this time with a hound on his trail. He made 
his way to a brook, and running down the shallow 
stream threw the dog off the scent, and, as the day was 
dawning, came suddenly upon four pickets, who brought 
their arms to a ready, and challenged him. He gave 
the countersign, '' Mississippi," and claimed to belong to 
the Second Virginia Regiment. They asked him where 
he got that belt (his cap box had slipped from before 
his belt-plate), to which he replied that he had captured 
it that night from a Yankee. They told him to advance, 
and, as he approached, he recognized their accoutre- 
ments, and knew that he was among his own men, a 
picket guard from the First Kentucky. 

He was taken before Colonel Enyart, and dismissed 
to his regiment. He said his plan was to give intima- 
tion to the reserves of their advance, that they might 
open upon them on their left flank, and so, perhap, 
arrest their advance. 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 409 

How Cheatham Deceived the Illinois Cavalry. — 
The Cairo correspondent of the St. Louis Republican,. 
in 1861, visited the rebel camp, at Columbus, under a 
flag of truce. He relates the following story, told by the 
rebel General Cheatham, of the manner in which he 
escaped capture at the battle of Belmont, Missouri ; 

Just as the opposing armies were approaching one 
another. General Cheatham discovered a squadron of 
cavalry coming down a road near his position. Uncer- 
tain as to which force it belonged, accompanied only by 
an orderly, he rode up to within a few yards of it and 
inquired : 

^' What cavalry is that?" 

'^Illinois cavalry, sir," was the reply. 

''Oh! Illinois cavalry. All right! — just stay where 
you are !" 

The cavalry obeyed the rebel order, and unmolested 
them (who supposed he was a Federal officer) the 
general rode back safely under the guns of another Fed- 
eral regiment, which had by that time come up, but 
who, seeing him coming from the direction of the cav- 
alry, also supposed that he was " one of them." Some 
of our officers remembered the incident, and agreed with 
the hero of it, that, if they had known who lie was, 
there would have been one rebel general less that night. 



One Man Capturing a Dozen. — During one of the 
movements made by the Eleventh Ohio, at the battle 
of South Mountain, to drive the rebels from their posi- 
tion, Colonel Coleman was unfortunately cut off from the 
regiment, and on emerging from a dense thicket of pine 



410 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

and laurel bushes, found himself confronting some ten 
or a dozen rebels, having in charge several Union soldiers 
as prisoners. In an instant he flourished his sword 
over his head, dashed right at them, and, in a stern, 
commanding voice, ordered them, in no very complimen- 
tary terms, to surrender. Down went every gun, and 
up went every hand, and, ordering them to fall in, he 
marched them within the lines — the Union boys and 
rebels having meanwhile changed positions considerably. 



*'SoLD Again." — A scouting party of the Eleventh 
Ohio, under command of Captain Jordan, made a descent 
on a happ3' company of the chivalry in a manner which 
was both adroit and amusing. The captain seeing a 
bright light in a house marched his party to within a 
short distance of it, and leaving them in a concealed 
place, with his instructions to be on the alert, j^roceeded 
by himself to reconnoitre the position. On approaching 
the house, he discovered that the light was from a 
blazing fire. Walking boldly up to the door, but shield- 
ing his face and dress from the glare of the light, he 
accosted a Confederate soldier, who, at that moment, 
opened the door and looked out. Ascertaining that the 
house was full of rebels, he replied to an invitation to 
come in and warm himself, by saying that he would, as 
soon as he had hitched his horse. Having done this, he 
brought up his men, who were concealed within a few 
rods. Without noise, in a few minutes their bayonets 
were closed around the house, and Captain Jordan, with 
revolver in hand, sprang into the centre of the rebels, 
ordering them to surrender instantlv. A rifle or two 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 411 

were raised at him, but he, with great coohiess, laughed 
at their boldness. Seeing a file of blue-coated boys, 
with guns in hand, crowding in at the door, and several 
approaching bayonets, the rebels put down their guns, 
and raised their hands in token of surrender. 

" Pretty well done, captain," said the officer in charge 
of the picket post, as this turned out to be. 

" Yes," said Jordan, " we always do things pretty 
well. Fall in here, and keep pretty quiet if you know 
what is good for you." 

When the rebels, after surrendering their arms, were 
marched off, and beheld the very inferior force to which 
they had surrendered, some of them could not help 
muttering, "Sold again !" 



Cutting Off the Supplies. — During the battle of 
Chancellors ville, just as we were starting out of an oak 
thicket, a solid shot from the enemy instituted a search 
into the haversack of one of the boys of Company H, 
tearing it from him in a very rude manner, and throw- 
ing his hard tack in every conceivable direction. At 
first it felled him to the earth, but finding himself unin- 
jured, he rose to his feet, and, looking around, said : 
'^ Hallo ! the d — d villains are cutting off my supplies !" 



Veterans or Militia ? — At the battle of Gettysburg, 
when Longstreet made his attack on the Union centre, 
the Union troops were behind a stone wall. The rebels 
were told that the men ahead were only militia, and so 
marched boldly up. When within thirty yards of the 
Union line they recognized the bronzed features of their 



412 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

old enemy, and the cry was raised : '^The Army of the 
Potomac /" when they became at once demoralized, and 
were cut to pieces. Nearly all the rebels shot in the 
attack on the centre were struck in the head. 



" Set 'em up on t'other Alley." — At Antietam our 
boys (One-hundred-and-seventh New York Volunteers) 
supported Cothern's battery. The rebels advanced in a 
solid mass. One of our boys, a sporting character from 
Elmira, climbed a high rock, where he could view the 
whole scene. He occupied his place unmindful of the 
bullets whizzing like bees around him. The rebels 
came on until we could see their faces, and then 
Cothern poured the canister into them. The advancing 
column was literally torn to pieces by the fire. Our 
friend on the rock grew frantic in his demonstrations 
of delight, and as one of the battery sections sent a 
schrapnel which mowed down a long line of Johnnies, 
he swung his cap, and shouting so that the Hying rebels 
could have heard him, sung out : '" Bui — 1 — 1 — 1 — ee ! 
Set 'em up on t'other alley T 



A Little Hero. — At the siege of Fort Donelson, a boy 
of eleven years of age, whose father, a volunteer, had 
been taken prisoner by the rebels at Belmont, smuggled 
himself on board one of the transports at Cincinnati, 
laden with troops for Fort Donelson. On the field, on 
the morning of the great fight, he joined the Seventy- 
Eighth Ohio Regiment, and being questioned by one of 
the officers, he told him of his father having been taken 
prisoner, and having no mother, he had no one to care 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 413 

for him, and wanted to fight his father's captors. The 
officer tried to persuade him to turn back, but he was 
not to be denied. So he succeeded in obtaining a mus- 
ket and went into the thickest of the battle. He then 
crept up by degrees within a short distance of the rebel 
intrenchments, and posted himself behind a tree, from 
whicli he kept firing as often as he could see a head to 
fire at. lie was soon discovered by the enemy's sharp- 
shooters, who endeavored to drive him away from his 
position, as he kept picking them off very frequently. 
One of the rebels who was outside of the work, got a 
sight on the boy with his rifle, but before he could dis- 
charge his piece the little warrior fired, and down went 
the rebel. As this rebel had a fine minie rifle, the boy 
ran out and picked it up ; taking time to get pouch and 
balls, together with his knapsack, while the bullets were 
flying on all sides of him, and then retreated to his 
wooden breastwork, where he renewed his fire and with 
better success than before ; and after being in the fight 
all day, he returned to the Seventy-eighth at night with 
his prizes. Many of the members of that regiment saw 
the gallant conduct of the little hero, and vouched for 
the truth of his story. 



A Brave Irishman. — One of the Indiana regiments 
was fiercely attacked by a whole brigade, in one of the 
battles in Mississippi. The Indianians, unable to with- 
stand such great odds, were compelled to fall back about 
thirty or forty yards, losing, to the utter mortification 
of the officers and men, their flag, which remained in 
the hands of the enemy. Suddenly a tall Irishman, a 
private in the color company, rushed from the ranks 



414 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

across the vacant ground, attacked the squad of rebels 
who had possession of the conquered flag, with his 
musket felled several to the ground, snatched the flag 
from them, and returned safely to his regiment. The 
bold fellow was, of course, immediately surrounded by 
his jubilant comrades, and greatly praised for his 
gallantry. His captain made him a sergeant upon 
the spot ; but the hero cut every thing short by the 
reply : 

'' Oh ! never mind, captain — say no more about it. I 
dropped my whiskey flask among the rebels, and fetched 
that back, and I thought I might just as well bring the 
flag along !" 



MORGAN'S MEN 

AND THE SECESSIONISTS. 



In Morgan's rash but daring raid into Indiana and 
Ohio, in July, 1863, his band of guerillas, after they 
entered Indiana, plundered right and left, sparing noth- 
ing they could render available. In their forays, however, 
they were more severe upon Northern men who professed 
to be secessionists than upon any others, despising them 
for their meanness and treachery. This was especially 
exemplified at Salem, Indiana. 

After Morgan entered the town, some of his men went 
to burn the bridges and water-tanks on the railroad. 
They captured on their way two men, one of whom was 
a Quaker. The broad-brimmed patriot urged that he 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 415 

as a peaceable citizen attending only to his own business, 
ought not to be held as a prisoner of war. 

''But are you. not hostile to the Confederacy?" 

" Thee is right. I am." 

'•' Well, you voted for Abraham Lincoln, did you not?" 

" Thee is right. I did vote for Abraham." 

''Well, what are you?" 

" Thee may naturally suppose that I am a Union 
man. Can thee not let me go to my home ?" 

" Yes, yes ; go and take care of the old woman," said 
the rebel, releasing the man, whose brave and honest 
truthfulness won the respect of the foe. 

The other captive was not pleased with the speedy re- 
lease of his comrade in misfortune. Turning to his 
captors with the ignoble and malicious spirit which has 
characterized all of his class, he said, hoping to ingrati- 
ate himself with the rebels : 

" Look here ! What did you let that fellow go for ? 
He is a black abolitionist. Now /voted for Breckinridge. 
I have always been opposed to the war. I am opposed 
to fighting the South decidedly" 

" You are ?" replied the rebel, contemptuously. "You 
are what they call about here a Copperhead, aren't you ?" 

" Yes, yes," replied the Copperhead, insinuatingly. 
" That is what all my neighbors call me. They know 
that I am not with them." 

" Come here, Dave !" shouted the rebel to one of his 
comrades. " There is a Copperhead ! Just look at him ! 
Now, old man," continued he, turning to the wretch, 
" where do you live ? We want what horses you have 
to spare. And if you have any greenbacks just shell 
them out ; that's all !" 



416 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 



MY CAPTURE AND ESCAPE FROM M06BY. 

Captain W. W. Badger, Inspector-General of Cavalry 
in the Army of the Shenandoah, thus relates, in the 
United States Service Magazine, the story of his capture 
by Mosby's guerillas, and his escape from them : 

Belle, my favorite mare, neighed impatiently in front of 
my tent, just as the bright sunrise of early autumn was 
gilding the hill. The morning was cold and brilliam, 
and the first crisp of frost had just sufficiently stiffened 
the sod to make a brisk gallop agreeable to both rider 
and horse. 

The bold Shenandoah shook the icy wrinkles from 
its morning face, and rolled smoothly away before me 
into the gorgeous forest of crimson and gold below Front 
Royal. 

It is the day of the regular train, and a thousand 
army wagons are already rolling away from Sheridan's 
headquarters down the famous Valley Pike, to bring 
food and raiment to a shivering and hungry army. I 
spring into the saddle, and Belle, in excellent spirits, 
evidently thinks she can throw dust in the eyes of 
Mosby or any other guerilla who dares follow her tracl^. 
It is nine miles to where the train is parked, and before 
I arrive there, the last wagon has passed out of sight, 
and the picket gate of the army has been closed for an 
hour behind it. My orders are imperative to accompany 
this train, and military law allows of no discretion. 
With a single orderly and my colored servant, George 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 417 

Washington, a contraband, commonly called Wash, to 
coiLstantly remind him of the Christian virtue of clean- 
liness, I pass out into the guerilla-infested country. 

It is but an hour's work to overtake the train, and 
mounted as I am, I feel great contempt for guerillas, and 
inwardly defy any of them to catch me, as I give Belle 
the rein and dash on at a sweeping gallop till I come in 
sight of the train, a mile ahead, winding it way through 
the little vi.'lage of Newtown, nine miles south of Win- 
chester, 

'• Mosby be hanged!" I said to myself, as I slacken 
speed and pass leisurely tlirough the town, noticing the 
pretty women, who, for some reason, appear in unusual 
farce at the doors and windows, and one or two of whom 
wave their handkerchiefs in a significant manner, which, 
however, I fail to understand, and ride heedlessly for- 
w\ard. Who would suppose a pretty woman waving a 
handkerchief to be a sign of danger ? 

Evidently no one but a cynic or a crusty old bache- 
lor, and, as I am neither, I failed to interpret the well- 
meant warning. 

As I had nearly passed the town, I overtook a small 
party, apparently of the rear-guard of the train, who 
were lighting their pipes and buying cakes and apples 
at a small grocery on the right of the pike, and who 
seemed to be in charge of a non-commissioned officer. 

'^ Good-morning, sergeant," I said, in answer to his 
salute. '' You had better close up at once. The train is 
getting well ahead, and this is the favorite beat of Mosby." 

"All right, sir," he replied, with a smile of peculiar 
intelligence, and nodding to his men they mounted at 
once and closed in behind me, while, quite to my sur- 
27 



418 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

prise, I noticed three more of the party, whom I had 
not before seen, in front of me. 

An instinct of danger at once possessed me. I saw 
nothing to justify it, but I felt a presence of evil which 
I could not shake off. The men were in Union blue 
complete, and wore in their caps the well known Greek 
cross, which distinguishes the gallant Sixth Corps. 
They were young, intelligent, cleanly, and good looking 
soldiers, armed with revolvers and Spencer's repeating 
carbine. 

I noticed the absence of sabres, but the presence of 
the Spencer, which is a comparatively new arm in our 
service, re-assured me, as I thought it impossible for' the 
enemy to be, as yet, possessed of them. 

We galloped on merrily, and just as I was ready to 
laugh at my own fears, Wash, who had been riding 
behind me, and had heard some remark made by the 
soldiers, brushed up to my side, and whispered through 
his teeth, chattering with fear, " Massa, secesh sure ! 
Run like de debbel !" 

I turned to look back at these words, and saw six car- 
bines levelled at me at twenty paces' distance ; and the 
sergeant, who had watched every motion of the negro, 
came riding toward me with his revolver drawn, and the 
sharp command, " Halt — surrender !" 

We had reached a low place where the Opequan 
Creek crosses the pike a mile from Newtown. The 
train was not a quarter of a mile ahead, but out of sight 
for the moment over the next ridge. High stone walls 
lined the pike on either side, and a narrow bridge across 
the stream in front of me was already occupied by the 
three rascals who had acted as advance-guard, who now 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP. FIELD, AND DOSPITAL. 419 

coolly turned round and presented carbines also from 
their point of view. 

I remembered the military maxim, a mounted man 
should never surrender until his horse is disabled, and 
hesitated an instant considering what to do, and quite 
in doubt whether I was myself, or some other fellow 
whom I had read of as captured and hung by guerillas; 
but at the repetition of the sharp command '^ Surrender," 

with the addition of the polite words, "you d d 

Yankee son of a b h," aided by the somewhat dis- 
agreeable presence of the revolver immediately in my 
face, I concluded I was undoubtedly the other fellow, 
and surrendered accordingly. 

My sword and revolver were taken at once by the 
sergeant, who proved to be Lieutenant C. F. Whiting, of 
Clark County, Virginia, in disguise, and who remarked, 
laughing, as he took them, '' We closed up, captain, as 
you directed; as this is a ^avorite beat of Mosby's, I 
hope our drill was satisfactory." 

"All right, sergeant," I replied. '"' Every dog has his 
day, and yours happens to come now. You have 
sneaked upon me in a cowardly way, disguised as a spy, 
and possibly my turn may come to-morrow." 

^^ Your turn to be hung," he replied. And then, as we 
hurried along a wood path down the Opequan, he told 
me with great satisfaction, how they had lain in ambush 
in expectation of catching some stragglers from our 
train, and seeing me coming, had reached the little 
grocery from the woods behind it, just in time to appear 
as belonging to our party; that Mosby was three miles 
back, with a hundred men, and I should soon have the 
honor of seeing him in person. 



420 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

Thej were a jolly, good-natured set of fellows, who 
evidently thought they had done a big thing ; and as I 
Bcanned them more closely, the only distinction in ap- 
pearance between them and our soldiers which I could 
dif?cover, was that the Greek cross on their caps was 
embroidered in yelloAv worsted. 

I was offered no further indignity or insult, and was 
allowed to ride my own horse for the present, though I 
■Was quietly informed on the way that Mosby had 
threatened to hang the first officer he should catch, in 
retaliation for his men who had been hung as guerillas 
at Front Royal, and that I would undoubtedly be the 
unfortunate individual. 

With this consoling information I was ushered into 
the presence of the great modern highwayman, John S. 
Mosby, then lieutenant-colonel C. S. A. 

He stood a little apart from his men, by the side of 
a splendid gray horse, with his right hand grasping the 
bridle-rein, the forearm resting on the pommel of his 
saddle, his left arm akimbo, and his right foot thrown 
across the left ankle and resting on its toe. He is a 
slight, medium-sized man, sharp of feature, quick of 
sight, lithe of limb, with a bronzed face of the color and 
tension of whip-cord ; his hair a yellow-brown, with 
full but light beard, and mustache of the same. A 
straight Grecian nose, firm-set expressive mouth, large 
ears, deep-gray eyes, high forehead, large well-shaped 
head, and his whole expression denoting hard services, 
energy, and love of whiskey. 

He wore top-boots, and a civilian's overcoat — black, 
lined with red — and beneath it the complete gray uni- 
form of a Confederate lieutenant-colonel, with its two 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 421 

stars on the sides of the standing collar, and the whole 
surmounted by the inevitable slouched hat of the whole 
Southern race. His men were about half in blue and 
half in butternut. 

He scarcely noticed me as I approached, but fixed 
his gaze on the noble animal I rode, as evidently the 
more valuable prize of the two. As I dismounted, he 
said to his servant, ''Dick, take that horse;" and I 
knew the time had come when I must part with my 
beautiful Belle, whom I had ^rode nearly three years, 
through many a bloody field and hair's-breadth escape, 
and who loved me with an almost human love. Twice 
during the last three miles, as I came to a space of open 
country, had I resolved to dash away and trust to her 
nimble feet to distance their deadly rifles — and twice 
the sweet faces of home had appeared to scare me back 
to propriety. 

Ah ! what will a man not endure for the sweet faces 
of home ? Beware of tender ties, you who aspire to 
deeds of desperate daring ! For, although ennobling 
and inspiring to all that is duty, you will be either more 
or less than man if they fiiil to compel you to prudence 
wherever there is a choice of action left. I could not 
refrain from throwing my arms around Belle's neck, and 
tenderly caressing her for the last time before she was 
led away. 

The lieutenant ventured to protest against Mosby's 
appropriating the mare to himself, without an apportion- 
ment and division of her value, in accordance with the 
rules of the gang ; but he was promptly silenced, and 
ordered to content himself with his choice of the other 
two horses he had captured — which he immediately did 



422 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

by taking both of them. While this colloquy was pass- 
ing, Mosby was quietly examining my papers, which 
had been taken from my pocket on my arrival ; and 
presently, looking up with a peculiar gleam of satisfac- 
tion on his face, he said : 

"Oh, Captain B ! inspection-general of 's 

cavalry ? Good morning, captain — glad to see you, fc;ir ! 
Indeed, there is but one man I would prefer to see this 
morning to yourself, and that is your commander. 
Were you present, sir, the other day, at the hanging of 
eight of my men as guerillas at Front Royal ?" 

This question pierced me like a sword, as I really had 
been present at the terrible scene he mentioned. And 
although I had used my full influence, even to incurring 
the charge of timidity, in attempting to save the lives 
of the wretched men, believing that retaliation would 
be the only result, I could not show that fact, and 
doubted if it would avail me aught if I could. 

I therefore answered him firmly : " I was present, 
sir, and, like you, have only to regret that it was not 
the commander, instead of his unfortunate men." 

This answer seemed to please Mosby, for he appa- 
rently expected a denial. He assumed a grim smile, 
and directed Lieutenant Whiting to search me. My 
gold hunting watch and chain, several rings, a set of 
shirt studs and buttons, some coins, a Masonic pin, and 
about three hundred dollars in greenbacks, with some 
letters and pictures of the dear ones at home, and a 
small pocket Bible, were taken. 

A board of officers w^as assembled to appraise their 
value, also that of my clothing, and to determine the 
ownership of each of the articles — the rules of the gang 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 423 

requiring that all captures shall be thus disposed of, or 
sold, and their value distributed proportionately among 
the captors. 

My boots were appraised at six hundred and fifty 
dollars in Confederate money; my watch at three thou- 
sand ; and the other articles in the same proportion, 
including my poor old servant Wash, who was put up 
and raffled for at two thousand dollars. Wash was very 
indignant that he should be thought worth only two 
thousand dollars Confederate money, and informed them 
that he considered himself quite unappreciable; and that, 
among oth^ accomplishments, he could make the best 
milk punch of any man in the Confederacy — and, if 
they had the materials, he would like to try a little of 
it now. This hit at the poverty of their resources 
raised a laugh ; and Mosby's man Dick, to show that 
they had the materials, offered Wash a drink — which, 
quite to my surprise, and doubtless to that of his own 
stomach also, he stubbornly refused. On asking him 
privately why he refused, he replied : " You know, 
massa, too much freeder breeds despise !" 

W^hen all this was concluded, Mosby took me one 
side, and returned to me the Bible, letters, and pictures, 
and the Masonic pin, saying quietly, as he did so, allud- 
ing to the latter with a significant sign : 

^' You may as well keep this ; it may be of use to you 
somewhere. Some of my men pay some attention to 
that sort of thing. Your people greatly err in thinking 
us merely guerillas. Every man of mine is a duly enlisted 
soldier, and detailed to my command from various Con- 
federate regiments. They are merely picked men, 
selected from the whole army for their intelligence and 



424 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

courage. We plunder the enemy, as the rules of war 
cleai'ly allow. To the victors belong the spoils, has 
been a maxim of war in all ages. I can hang two for 
one all the year round, if your men insist ujDon it ; but I 
hope soon to have a better understanding. I yesterday 
executed eight of your poor fellows on the valley pike, 
your highway of travel, in retaliation for my men hung 
at Front Royal ; and I have to-day written to General 
Sheridan, informing him of it, and proposing a cessation 
of such horrible work, which every true soldier cannot 
but abhor. I sincerely hope he will assent to it." 

I thanked him warmly for his kindness, as I took his 
offered hand with a grip known all the world over to 
the brethren of the mystic tie, and really began to think 
Mosby almost a gentleman and a soldier, although he 
had just robbed me in the most approved manner of 
modern highwaymen. 

The sun was now approaching the meridian, and im- 
mediate preparations were made for the long road to 
Richmond and the Libbj'. A guard of fifteen men, in 
command of Lieutenant Whiting, was detailed as our 
escort; and accompanied by Mosby himself, we started 
directly across the country, regardless of roads, in an 
easterly direction, toward the Shenandoah and the Blue 
Ridge. We were now in company of nine more of 
our men, who had been taken at different times, making 
eleven of our party in all, besides the indignant contra- 
band, Wash, whom it was also thought prudent to send 
to the rear for safe keeping. 

I used every effort to gain the acquaintance and confi- 
dence of these men, and by assuming a jolly and reck- 
less manner, I succeeded in drawing them out and 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 425 

s-atisfying myself that some of them could be depended 
on in any emergency. I had determined to escape if 
even half an opportunity should present itself, and 
the boys were quick in understanding my purpose 
and intimating their readiness to risk their lives in the 
attempt. 

Two of them, in particular — George W. McCauley, 
of Western V^irginia, commonly known as Mack, and 
one Brown, of Blaser's scouts — afterward proved them- 
selves heroes of the truest metal. 

Wo journeyed rapidly, making light of our misfor- 
tunes, and cracking many a joke with our rebel guard, 
until we reached Howittsville, on the Shenandoah, nine 
miles below Front Royal, where we bivouacked for the 
night in an old school-house, sole relic left of a former 
civilization. It is an old, unpainted two story building, 
with wooden blinds nailed shut, and seems to have been 
fitted up by Mosljy as a kind of way station, in which 
to camp with his. stranger guests. Many a sad heart, 
more hopeless and broken than our's, has doubtless 
throbbed restless on its naked floors, with premonitions 
of the dreary Libby. All of the guard confirmed Mos- 
by's statement as to the organization of his band and 
the execution of our men the day previous ; and his 
letter to Sheridan in regard to it has since been published, 
and certainly speaks for itself of the business-like habits 
of its author. 

Our party of eleven were assigned to one side of the 
lower floor of the school-house, where we lay down side 
by side, with our heads to the wall, and our feet nearly 
touching the feet of the guard, who lay in the same 
manner, opposite to us, with their heads to the other 



426 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

wall, except three who formed a relief guard for tho 
sentry's post at the door. Above the heads of the guard, 
along the wall, ran a low school desk, on which each 
man of them stood his carbine and laid his revolver 
before disposing himself to sleep. A fire before the door 
dimly lighted the room, and the scene as they dropped 
gradually to sleep was warlike in the extreme, and 
made a Rembrandt picture on my memory which will 
never be effaced. 

I had taken care, on lying down, to place myself 
between McCauley and Brown, and the moment the 
rebels began to snore and the sentry to nod over his pipe, 
we were in earnest and deep conversation. McCauley 
proposed to unite our party and make a simultaneous 
rush for the carbines, and take our chances of stamped- 
ing the guard and making our escape \ but on passing 
the whisper quietly along our line, only three men were 
found willing to assent to it. As the odds were so largely 
against us, it was useless to urge the subject. 

The intrepid McCauley then proposed to go himself 
alone in the darkness among the sleeping rebels, and 
bring over to our party every revolver and every car- 
bine before any alarm should be given, if we would only 
use the weapons when placed in our hands ; but again 
timidity .prevailed, and I must confess that I myself 
hesitated before this hardy courage, and refused to peril 
the brave boy's life in so rash a venture, as a single false 
step or the least alarm, in favor of which the chances 
were as a thousand to one, would have been to him, and 
probably to all of us, instant death. 

I forbade the attempt, but could not help clasping 
the brave fellow to my heart, and kissing him like a 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 427 

brother for the noble heroism of which he was evidently 
made. He was a fair boy of but eighteen summers, 
with soft black eyes, and a rosy, round face as smooth 
and delicate as a girl's, with a noble forehead and an 
unusually intelligent countenance. I had picked him 
out at first sight as a hero, and every hour was increas- 
ing my admiration of him. He slept in my arms at last, 
as the long night wore away, till the morning broke dull 
and rainy, finding us exhausted and thoroughly wretched 
and despondent. 

The march began at an early hour, and our route ran 
directly up the Blue Ridge. We had emerged from the 
forest and ascended about one third the height of the 
mountain, when the full valley became visible, spread 
out like a map before us, showing plainly the lines of 
our army, its routes of supply, its foraging parties out, 
and my own camp at Front Royal as distinctly as if we 
stood in one of its streets. We now struck a wood path 
running southward and parallel with the ridge of the 
mountain, along which we travelled for hours, with this 
wonderful panorama of forest and river, mountain and 
plain, before us in all the gorgeous beauty of the early 
autumn. 

'' This is a favorite promenade of mine," said Mosby. 
'' I love to see your people sending out their almost 
daily raids after me. There comes one of them now 
almost toward us. If you please, we will step behind 
this point and see them pass. It may be the last sight 
you will have of your old friends for some time." 

The coolness of this speech enraged me, and yet I 
could not help admiring the quiet and unostentatious 
audacity which seemed to be the prominent character- 



428 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

istic of its author. I could hardly restrain an impulse 
to rush upon him and 

" Try this quarrel hilt to hilt," 

but the important fact that I had not a hilt even, while 
he wore two revolvers, restrained me, and looking in 
the direction he pointed, I distinctly saw a squadron of 
my own regimert coming directly toward us on a road 
running under the foot of the mountain, and apparently 
on some foraging expedition down the valley. They 
passed within a half mile of us under the mountain, and 
Mosby stood with folded arms on a rock above them, 
the very picture of stoical pride and defiance, or, as 
Mack whispered : 

" Like patience on a monument smiling at grief.'"' 

We soon moved on, and before noon reached the road 
running through Manassas Gap, which place we found 
held by about one hundred of Mosby's men, who sig- 
nalled him as he approached ; and here, much to my 
regret, tlie great chieftain left us, bidding me a kindly 
good-by, and informing me that my last hope of rescue 
or escape was now gone. 

We were hurried on through the gap and down the 
eastern slope of the mountain, and turning south vrard, 
in a few hours passed Chester Gap, finding it also occu- 
pied by Mo.sby's men in force, and we were only able 
to approach it after exchanging the proper signals. 

This gave me an idea of how Mosby conducts his 
raids so successfully, by leaving a garrison in each of 
the gaps behind him before he ventures far into the 
valley. These garrisonsthe can concentrate at any de- 
sired point by signals almost in an hour, and any of 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 429 

them can communicate with him from the mountain 
tops to any part of the valley, and either warn him of 
danger or direct him where to strike. If pursued, he 
has but to retreat in such a direction as to draw his 
pursuers on to this reserve force, which he concentrates 
in some strong position, or in ambush, at his pleasure, 
and develops with fresh horses just as his pursuers are 
exhausted with the long chase. He is thus enabled, 
with about five hundred picked men, to remain, as he 
has been for two years past, the terror of the valley. 

After passing Chester Gap, we descend into the valley 
and move toward Sperryville, on the direct line to 
Richmond, the last gate of hope seeming to close behind 
us as we leave the mountains. Our guard is now re- 
duced, as we are far within the Confederate lines, to 
Lieutenant Whiting and three men, well mounted and 
doubly armed, and our party of eleven prisoners have 
seven horses to distribute among us as we please, so 
that four of us are constantly dismounted. There is 
also a pack-horse carrying our forage, rations, and some 
blankets. To the saddle of this pack-horse are strapped 
two Spencer carbines, muzzle downward, with their 
accoutrements complete, including two well iiiled car- 
tridge boxes. 

I called Mack's attention to this fact as soon as the 
guard was reduced, and he needed no second hint to 
comprehend its significance at once. He soon after dis- 
mounted, and when it came his turn again to mount, 
he secured, apparently by accident, the poorest and 
most broken down horse in the party, with which he 
appeared to find it very difficult to keep up, and which 
he actually succeeded in some mysterious way in laming. 



430 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

He then dropped back to the lieutenant in charge, 
and modestly asked to exchange his lame horse for the 
pack-horse, and being particularly frank in his address, 
his request was at once granted, without a suspicion of 
its object, or a thought of the fatal carbines on the pack- 
saddle. I used some little skill in diverting the atten- 
tion of the lieutenant while the pack was readjusted; 
and as the rain had now begun to fall freely, no one of 
the guard was particularly alert. 

I was presently gratified with the sight of Mack riding 
ahead on the pack-horse, with the two carbines still 
strapped to the saddle, but loosened and well concealed 
by his heavy ponclio, which he had spread as protection 
from the rain. 

These carbines are seven-shooters, and load from the 
breech by simply drawing out from the hollow stock a 
spiral spring and dropping in the seven cartridges, one 
after the other, and then inserting the spring again be- 
hind them, which coils as it is pressed home, and by its 
elasticity forces the cartridges forward, one at a time, 
into the barrel, at the successive movements of the lock. 

I could see the movement of Mack's right arm by the 
shape into which it threw the poncho ; and while guid- 
ing his horse with his left, looking the other way and 
chatting glibly with the other boys, I saw him carefully 
draw the springs from those carbines with his right hand 
and hook them into the upper button-hole of his coat to 
support them, while he dropped in the cartridges one 
after another, trotting his horse at the time to conceal 
the noise of their click, and finally forcing down the 
springs and looking round at me with a look of the 
fiercest triumph and heroism I have ever beheld. 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 431 

I nodded approval, and fearing he would precipitate 
matters, yet knowing that any instant might lead to 
discovery and be too late, I rode carelessly across the 
road to Brown, who was on foot, and dismounting, asked 
him to tighten my girth, during which operation I told 
him as quietly as possible the position of affairs, and asked 
him to get up gradually by the side of Mack, communi- 
cate with him, and at a signal from me to seize one of 
the carbines and do his duty as a soldier if he valued 
his liberty. 

Brown, though a plucky fellow, was of quite a differ- 
ent quality from Mack. He was terribly frightened, 
and trembled like a leaf, yet went immediately to his 
post, and I did not doubt would do his duty well. 

I rode up again to the side of Lieutenant Whiting, 
and like an echo from the past came back to me my 
words of yesterday, " Possibly my turn may come to- 
morrow." I engaged him in conversation, and among 
other things spoke of the prospect of sudden death as 
one always present in our army life, and the tendency 
it had to either harden or ameliorate the character ac- 
cording to the quality of the individual. He expressed 
the opinion which many hold that a brutal man is made 
more brutal by it, and a refined and cultivated man is 
softened and made more refined by it. 

I scanned the country closely for the chances of 
escape if we should succeed in gaining our liberty ; I 
knew that to fail or to be recaptured would be instant 
death, and the responsibility of risking the lives of the 
whole party, as well as my own, was oppressing me 
bitterly. I also had an instinctive horror of the shedding 
of blood, as it were, with my own hands, and the sweet 



432 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

faces of home were haunting me again, but this time, 
strange to say, urging me on, and apparently crying 
aloud for vengeance. 

We were on the immediate flank of Early's army. 
His cavalry was all around us. The road was thickly 
inhabited. It was almost night. We had passed a rebel 
picket but a mile back, and knew not how near anothei 
of their camps might be. The tlaree rebel guards were 
riding in front of us and on our left flank, our party of 
prisoners was in the centre, and I was by the side of 
Lieutenant Whiting, who acted as rear-guard, when we 
entered a small copse of willow which for a moment 
covered the road. 

The hour was propitious ; Mack looked round impa^ 
tiently ; I wove the fatal signal, " Now's the time, boys," 
into a story of our charge at Winchester, which I was 
telling to distract attention, and at the moment of its 
utterance threw myself upon the lieutenant, grasping 
him around the arms and dragging him from his horse, 
in the hope of securing his revolver, capturing him, and 
compelling him to pilot us outside of the rebel line. 

At the word, Mack raised one of the loaded carbines, 
and in less time than I can write it, shot two of the 
guard in front of him, killing them instantly ; and then 
coolly turning in his saddle, and seeing me struggling 
in the road with the lieutenant, and the chances of ob- 
taining the revolver apparently against me, he raised 
the carbine the third time, and as I strained the now 
desperate rebel to my breast, with his livid face over my 
left shoulder, he shot him as directly between the eyes 
as he could have done if firing at a target at ten paces' 
distance. The bullet went crashing through his skull, 



I 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 43 "i 

the hot blood spirted from his mouth and nostrils into 
my face, his hold relaxed, and his ghastly corpse fell from 
my arms, leaving an impression of horror and soul-sick- 
ness which can never be effaced. 

I turned around in alarm at our now desperate situa- 
tion, and saw Mack quietly smiling at me, with the 
remark : 

" Golly, cap ! I could have killed five or six more of 
them as well as not. TPiis is a bully carbine ; I think 
I will take it home with me." 

Brown had not accomplished so much. He had seized 
the second carbine at the word, and fired at the third 
guard on our flank; but his aim was shaky, and he had 
only wounded his man in the side, and allowed him to 
escape to the front, where he was now seen half a mile 
away, at full speed, and firing his pistols to alarm the 
country. 

Our position was now perilous in the extreme ; not a 
man of us knew the country, except its most general 
outlines. The rebel camps could not be far away ; dark- 
ness was intervening; the whole country would be 
alarmed in an hour ; and I doubted not that before sun- 
down even bloodhounds would be on our track. One 
half of our party had already scattered, panic-stricken, 
at the first alarm, and, every man for himself, were 
scouring the country in every direction. 

But five remained, including the faithful Wash, who 
immediately shows his practical qualities by searching 
the bodies of the slain, and recovering therefrom, among 
other things, my gold hunting watch from the person of 
Lieutenant Whiting, and over eleven hundred dollars in 

28 



434 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

greenbacks, the proceeds, doubtless, of their various 
robberies of our men. 

"Not quite 'nuff," said Wash, showing his ivories 
from ear to ear. " Bey vally dis nigger at two tousand 
doUers — I think I ought ter git de money." 

We instantly mounted the best horses, and, well 
armed with carbines and revolvers, struck directly for 
the mountain on our right; but knowing that would 
be the first place where we should be sought for, we soon 
changed our direction to the south, and rode for hours 
directly into the enemy's country as fast as we could 
ride, and before complete darkness intervened, we had 
made thirty miles from the place of our escape ; and 
then, turning sharp up the mountain, we pushed our 
exhausted horses as far as they could climb ; and then 
abandoning them, we toiled on, on foot, all night, to the 
very summit of the Blue Ridge, whence we could see 
the rebel camp fires, and view their entire lines and 
position just as daylight was breaking over the valley. 

We broke down twigs from several trees in line to 
determine the points of compass and the direction of the 
rebel forces and pickets after it should be light, and then 
crawled into a thicket to rest our exhausted frames and 
await the return of friendly darkness in which to con- 
tinue our flight. 

The length of this weary day, and the terrible pangs 
of hunger and thirst which we suffered on this barren 
mountain, pertain to the more common experience of a 
soldier's life, and I need not describe them here. 

Neither will I narrate, in detail, how some of our 
party who scattered arrived in camp before us, and how 
one feeble old man was recaptured and killed, nor our 



I 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 436 

hopeless despair as day after day we saw the mountain 
alive with rebel scouts sent out for our capture, and at 
night blazing with their picket fires ; and how we even 
ate a poor little dog which had followed our fortunes to 
his untimely end, and were thinking seriously of eating 
the negro Wash, when he, to save himself from so un- 
savory a fate, ventured down in the darkness to a corn- 
field, and brought us up three ears of corn apiece, which 
we ate voraciously ; and how we had to go still farther 
south and abandon the mountain altogether, to avoid 
the scouts and pickets ; and how we finally struck the 
Shenandoah, twenty miles to the rear of Early's army, 
and there built a raft and floated by night forty miles 
down that memorable stream, through his crafty pickets, 
and thereafter passed for rebel scouts, earnestly "looking 
for Yanks" until we found them, and the glorious old 
flag once more welcomed us to Union and liberty. 

These things the writer expects to tell, by the blessing 
of God, to the next generation, with his great-grand- 
children on his knee. 



THE HORSE MARINE'S STORY. 

Dr. Charles D. Gardette, for some time a surgeon 
in the army, and a poet and literary man of marked 
ability, furnished to the United States Service Magazine 
the following very interesting story, as related by one 
of his patients : 



i36 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

" Yes, doctor, it's me they call the Horse Marine, sure 
enough." 

''But why do they call you so?" I asked, as I re- 
placed the dressings. 

The man had got a sabre-slash across the head — not 
a dangerous one — and was in my ward of the MacFin- 
negan Hospital at the time. 

" Why, you see, sir, I served a good while in the 
marines before this war broke out ; and so, when I 
'listed into the land service, the boys soon found out I'd 
been a sea-soldier, and dubbed me The Horse Marine at 
once." 

''And what made you choose the cavalry, Spaddon ?" 
"Why, you see, sir, when I was a sea-soldier, I had 
a ship to carry me. 'And so,' says I, ' if I go into the 
land service, I will have a horse to carry me, and that's 
a ship I can steer myself;' for I was a jockey before I 
was a marine." 

" But why not re-enter the marines?" 
"Ah, it was the bounty, doctor! The sea-soldiers 
didn't get any bounty then ; nor the sailors neither, for 
that matter — more's the shame. And though I was not 
to say very poor, yet money was not amiss, nor the 
horse neither, to tell you the truth, for another reason. 
For between you and I, sir, I didh't go into the service 
again out of what you call pure patriotism altogether, 
nor for the love of fighting, though I have not shirked 
the last, if I say it myself, neither." 

" I should think not, Spaddon, from appearances ; 
but," continued I, liking the man, of whom I had known 
something previously, and having a little spare time at 
the moment — "what did you enlist for, then ?" 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 437 

" To catch my wife, doctor !" 

I looked at the man — a good-looking, muscular, 
shapely fellow, of six or seven and twenty; rather 
undersized, but firmly knit, with a bright intelligent 
face, and a manner and language above his present rank 
(corporal in the Ninety-ninth Cavalry). I looked at 
him. He was evidently quite serious, and I ignored 
his having been a marine; and, "Well, did you catch 
her, Spaddon ?" I asked, simply. 

"Yes — that is, I did — and I didn't; if you'd like to 
hear about it, doctor, I'll tell " 

"Doctor Smith, the surgeon-in-chief, wishes to see 
you for a moment in his quarters," said a messenger 
coming in at the instant. 

" Very good. Well, Spaddon, I'll hear your story 
another time — to-night, perhaps. Nurse, give him this 
as before ; he's doing very well." And I left hiuL 

When I came to Spaddon that night, I found him 
with a slight fever ; which, upon inquiry, I conjectured 
to have been produced by mental excitement on the 
subject of his wife-catching story. He had become very 
anxious to tell it to me at once, and his fear lest I 
should not find leisure to hear it, had run his pulse up a 
score of beats or so. Considering this of no special 
gravity, and finding him earnest to have his tale told, 
I gave him a slight calmant and ]mde him go ahead, 
but to be brief, and to keep to the point. 

"You know my name, doctor — Thomas Spaddon," 
he began ; " and that I am an American born and bred, 
as my father was before me. My fiither was a farmer, 
and brought me up " 

"Stop!" interrupted I, "I don't want your family 



438 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

history. There's no time for a long story. Come at 
once to the gist of the thing, Spaddon — about your 
wife-catching, you know." 

" Very well, sir; though I'd rather — but no matter. 
I was married seven years ago, sir, before I went into 
the marines. I traded in horses then. I was only 
twenty, and my wife hardly seventeen. Her father 
kept a livery stable in — never mind the place. She 
was a beauty, sir. Well, sir, in about a year her father 
broke all to smash, and cleared out. Then I got into a 

cursed bad streak of luck, and . Well, sir, there's 

no use hiding it ; I got into jail for horsestealing. But 
I swear to you I was " 

" Innocent, no doubt. I'll believe you without proof; 
only get on." 

** No !" said Spaddon, gravely ; " I was not innocent, 
but I was the tool of sharper men. No matter. I lay 
in jail a year, and then got pardoned out. When I 
went to seek my wife she was gone, and I could not find 
a trace, sir, not a trace. Well, sir, there I was — money 
gone, wife gone, character gone ! What to do ? I got 
drunk next day, and the next I 'listed into the marines. 
I served my term there, still hearing nothing of Jane, 
and came out of it as I went into it, an unhappy man, 
sir. Then the Rebellion broke out. But I thought no 
more of enlisting. My father had died and left me a 
little money without wishing it. That is, he had forgot 
to make a will, and I was the only child living, and 
mother long gone. It wasn't much ; but I didn't care. 
But one day I met a friend. He was a soldier, and had 
been a prisoner in the Soatli, and just got back. 

" ^ Tom,' says he, ' I saw Jane in Richmond.' 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 439 

"'Saw who?' I cried, hardly understanding him at 
first. 

" * Saw Jane, your wife. She's prettier than ever, 
but it's my opinion, Tom, she's no better than ' 

" I stopped him, sir ; but he didn't mean to hurt my 
feelings. Well, sir, how to get to her, or get her to me, 
was the question. I feared she wouldn't come of her 
own will, at least not unless I went and fetched her. 
But how to go ? I would not turn rebel, even if I 
could — even for her. I thought, and thought, and the 
next day I enlisted in the Ninety-ninth Cavalry. The 
cry was ' On to Richmond !' then, sir, and the Ninety- 
ninth was at the front. And in a fortnight so was I." 

" But you never got quite there, my poor fellow — into 
Richmond, I mean." 

''Yes, but I did, sir." 

" What ? Oh, as a prisoner ! you mean." 

" No, sir, but as a corpse !" 

"A — a corpse ! Come, Spaddon, tell that to — your 
old comrades !" said I, with stern irony. 

"Well, sir, I'm wrong; I didn't mean exactly a 
corpse, that's a fact; but I did mean as a wounded 
rebel." 

"I thought you said you would not turn rebel 
even " 

"So I did, and so I do, sir! But stratagem's all fair 
in war, and this was a stratagem, though it didn't do 
much good in the end, for when a man once " 

" Well, well !" I exclaimed, impatiently, " let us have 
the stratagem and its consequences — or rather," I con- 
tinued, as I felt his pulse, and looked at the time, " we 
will adjourn the conclusion till to-morrow." 



440 ARMY L:r;: tx camp, field, and hospital. 
" But, doctor " 



" No buts. Here, take this ; drink it all. That will 
do. I will be here in the morning. Good-night !" 

Spaddon was in excellent pulse in the morning, but I 
had no time to listen to him. In the afternoon, how- 
ever, he was well enough to be helped out to the piazza 
lor a breath of the sumuier air (I say "helped," for he 
had been knocked off liis horse by the blow he got, or 
by something else, and was severely bruised about the 
body), and there, sitting in a comfortable chair, he 
finished his story, as follows : 

" It was within three miles of Richmond that we 
fought that day, a long and bloody battle, as you know. 
At night both parties wore out piekiug up their dead 
and wounded, accordiug to agreemeut. I had formed a 
plan in my head, and now I put it into practice. It was 
desperate, but so was I. There were a good many of 
both sides, but chietly rebels, fallen in a bit of scrubby 
swamp-wood. They hadn't begun to search in there 
yet. I crept about there till I fouud what I wanted. 
I tied a bloody handkerchief round my head and jaw, 
stripped oif my uniform, put on that of a dead rebel, 
clapped mine on him somehow, and lay down, waiting. 
After awhile they came along with torches, and began 
to search. 0, doctor ! I can tell you I did not feel " 

"I can fancy your feelings, Spaddon; but be brief. 
They found you, took you for one of their wounded, and 
carried you into the city, eh ?" 

•' Yes, sir, in a wagon, with a lot of others. It was 
dark as pitch by this time. I watched my chance, and 
when we got into the city, in a dark spot, before we 
reached the better lit streets, I slipped down without 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL, 441 

being caught, and hid aimmg the buildings. After 
awhile I found an empty shed or outhouse, and stayed 
there till morning. Then 1 walked boldly out and into 
the streets. Nobody took especial notice of me. Two 
or three soldiers stopped me, and asked wliere I was 
hurt. I pointed to my jaw, and made signs I could not 
speak. A little girl offered me a hoe-cake. After 
walking about a couple of hours, I began to think that 
I had come on a fool's errand. How should I find her? 
How should 1 ask for her ? For the first time I began 
to think of the mortal danger I was in. I thought even 
of trying to go back somehow. Just then a woman 
came out of a house opposite me. It was Jane ! I 
knew her at once, though she was thinner and paler, 
and still prettier with it all! What should I do? 
Speak to her ? I dared not risk it in the street. She 
went into a house a little farther on. After awhile I 
made up my mind. I went over to the house she had 
come out of, and knocked. No answer. Again — again. 
No one came. I tried the door. It opened, and I went 
in and shut it behind me. It was a small, poor house. 
There was a basket of dirt^ linen on tlie table. I saw 
at a glance that Jane was a laundress. She a washer- 
woman ! I sat down, took off my bandage, and waited. 
In a few minutes she came in. She looked at me. 
* What do you want here ?' she said. 

'^ 'Don't you know me? I'm your husband, Jane!' 
said I, rising and making toward her. 

" ' My God !' she cried, and fell back. I caught her, 
and in a few minutes she came to. 

" ' Jane,' says I, ' I've come to take you home.' 

*' * Never!' says she, ' I'll never see the North again. 



442 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

I hate it! But you — ^you're a soldier — one of our 
soldiers. How came you here ? Ah !' she says sud- 
denly, you're a spy! a traitor! First a thief, and now 
a spy ! Good God ! Thomas Spaddon ! Do you think 
that I would own a thief and a spy for my husband?' 

" 'And is all your love dead, Jane ?' says I, looking 
her in the face. 

"She shook her head, and began to sob. Then, 
' How did you come here ?' she says again, sharply. 
' Who told you ' 

" ^ Nobody,' says I ; ' I saw you go out. Jane ! Jane, 
come home with me.' 

" ' Home ? Here's my home, with these noble, in- 
jured people. I hate and despise the Yankees !' 

"•You're a Yankee yourself, Jane,' says I. 

"' ' Thomas Spaddon,' says she, * I loved you once, 
and I'll not betray j'ou. But go, leave me and this city 
at once, forever ! Forever, I tell you ! I will never go 
with you. I — I have a husband here.' 

" * I'll kill him!' says I, looking around, as if I thought 
he might be there, and if he had been, I'd have done it, 

by .' 

" * Then go and do it like a man,' says she. ' He's 
out whipping your Yankees now, outside the city. Go 
and meet him if you dare ! Go ;' and, sir, she actually 
pushed me to the door. I could almost have killed 
her then, doctor. But I went ; I don't know how it 
was ; but I went without another word." 

Spaddon was gloomily silent, and sat with his head 
in his hands for a few moments. 

"And how did you get out of Richmond ?" I asked, 
presently. 



I 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 443 

'• I don't know, sir," said Spaddon, still gloomily. 

" What ? Don't know ! What do you mean by that, 
sir ?" 

" I mean just what I say, doctor. I was crushed. I 
just walked on and on, hearing nothing, seeing nothing, 
answering nothing, if any one spoke to me, which I don't 
know if they did or not. I just walked on and on, till 
I found myself in the country, in the fields just outside 
of the city. Then I woke up and looked around me, 
and saw some negroes, and called one, and asked him 
the way to our army. He thought I meant his master's 
forces, of course, but that didn't matter. He told me I 
was ' clean done gon' round de udder side ob de city,' and 
that I * mus' folly dis yer road till I come to the woods 
ober yander, when I'd see a paff ' — in short, sir, he put 
me in the way ; and making a painful march and a wide 
detour, and creeping through the swamps that night, I 
got back to our own camps alive, but used up both in 
body and mind, doctor, perfectly used up !" 

Spaddon had been out long enough, and I ordered him 
back to the ward. As we went along, I pondered over 
his story, looking at him the while. 

'' Spaddon," said I, " you say you were first a horse- 
jockey, then a marine, then a dragoon, and a wife- 
hunter?" 

" Yes, sir," answered Spaddon. 

" Well, Spaddon, I've no doubt about the first three 
phases of your life, but as to that tale of getting into and 
out of Richmond " 

" It's true, every word of it, doctor," said Spaddon, 
earnestly. 

" It may be," I replied ; '' but it sounds marvellously 
like a story for the horse marines." 



444 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 



THE CONTRABANDS IN THE WAR. 

The army correspondents as well as the soldiers have 
regarded the contrabands as fair subjects for practical 
jokes, and when these have been harmless in their 
character the negroes themselves have enjoyed them 
sometimes as much as their perpetrators. No doubt 
many of the stories of the contrabands, retailed b}^ the 
letter writers from the army, had their origin in the 
brains of those veracious chroniclers ; but the following 
can generally be vouched, for. 

Company K, of the First Iowa Cavalry, stationed in 
Tennessee, received into their camp a middle-aged but 
vigorous contraband. Innumerable questions were 
being propounded to him, when a corporal advanced, 
saying : 

" See here, Dixie, before you can enter the service of 
the United States, you must take the oath," 

"Yes, massa, I do dat," he replied ; when the cor- 
poral continued : 

"Well, then, take hold of the Bible !" holding out a 
letter envelope, upon which was delineated the Goddess 
of Liberty standing upon something like a Suffolk pig, 
wearing the emblem of our country. The negro grasped 
the envelope cautiously with his thumb and finger, 
when the corporal proceeded to administer the oath by 
saying : 

"You do solemnly swear that you will support the 
Constitution of the United States, and see that there 
are no grounds floating upon the coffee, at all times ?" 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 445 

'•• Yes, massa, I do dat," he replied ; " I allers settle 
'um in de cofFee-pot." 

Here he let go the envelope to gesticulate, by a down- 
ward thrust of his forefinger, the direction that would 
be given to the coffee-grounds for the future. 

^' Never mind how you do it," gravely exclaimed the 
corporal ; " but hold on to the Bible." 

'^ Lordy, massa, I forgot," said the negro, as he darted 
forward and grasped the envelope with a firmer clutch, 
when the corporal continued : 

"And you do solemnly swear that you will support 
the Constitution of all loyal States, and not dirty the 
plates when cleaning them, or wipe them with your 
shirt sleeves ?" 

Here a frown lowered upon the brow of the negro, his 
eyes expanded to their largest dimensions, while his lips 
protruded, with a rounded form, as he exclaimed : 

'•^ Lordy, massa — I nebher do dat. I allers washes 
'um nice. Ole missus mighty 'tickler 'bout dat." 

'^ Never mind ole missus !" said the corporal, as he 
resumed : "And you do solemnly swear that you will 
put milk into the coffee every morning, and see that 
the ham and eggs are not cooked too much or too 

little r 

" Yes — I do dat. I'se a good cook." 

*'And lastly," continued the corporal, "you do sol- 
emnly swear that when this war is over, you'll make 
tracks for Africa mighty last ?" 

" Yes, massa, I do dat. I allers wanted to go to 
Cheecargo." 

Here the regimental drum beat up for dress parade, 
when Tom Benton — that being his name — was declared 



446 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

duly sworn and commissioned as chief cook in Company 
K, of the First Iowa Cavalry. 



One of the Anderson Zouaves relates the following in- 
cident as having come under his observation : 

We were scouting one day in Alabama, when in a 
remote field we found a negro man and woman plough- 
ing with a good horse. We paused, and the ploughers 
gazed at us with the greatest curiosity. I never saw a 
more thoroughly astonished individual. It was evi- 
dently his first sight at Yankee soldiers. 

" Well, boy, wont you come along with us ?" I said. 

" De Lawd bless's — mars's, is you really de Fed'rals ?" 

" That's it, old fellow." 

" De rale Linkum sojers ?" 

" Exactly." 

" De kind as wants counterbans ?" 

" Identically." 

Here he proceeded with great deliberation to unhitch 
his horse from the plough. Gathering up divers small 
objects, that nothing might be lost, he slung himself on 
his steed, and cried, over his shoulder, to his amazed 
work-fellow : 

^'Good-by, M'ria. I'se off !" 

And off he rode, stared at by " M'ria," whose eyes 
gazed after him in utter and complete bewilderment — 
" like the grandmother of all the owls when she first 
saw sunshine." 

The contraband of whom the following story is told 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AM) HOSPITAL. 447 

was not, it would seem, as courageous as some of his 
colored brethren, though decidedly a philosopher : 

Upon the hurricane-deck of one of our gunboats, an 
elderly darkey, with a very philosophical and retrospec- 
tive cast of countenance, squatted upon his bundle, 
toasting his shins against the chimney, and apparently 
plunged into a state of profound meditation. Finding, 
upon inquiry, that he belonged to the Ninth Illinois, 
one of the most gallantly behaved and heavy-losing 
regiments at the Fort Donelson battle, and part of which 
was aboard, the " war correspondent," began to interro- 
gate him on the subject : 
u "Were you in the light?" 
'^ Had a little taste of it, sa'." 
" Stood your ground, did you ?" 
" No, sa', I runs." 
'' Run at the first fire, did you?" 
" Yes, sa', and would hab run soona, had I knowd it 
war comin'." 

'< Why, that wasn't very creditable to your courage." 
" Dat isn't my line, sa' — cookin's my profeshun." 
" Well, but have you no regard for your reputation ?" 
" Reputation's nuffin to me by de side ob life." 
" Do you consider your life worth more than other 
people's ?" 

" It's worth more to me, sa'." 
"Then you must value it very highly?" 
" Yes, sa, I does, more dan all dis wuld, more dan a 
million of dollars, sa', for what would dat be wuth to a 
man wid de href out ob him ? Self-preservation am de 
fust law wid me." 



448 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

^' But why should you act upon a different rule from 
other men ?" 

" Becase different men sot different values upon their 
lives: mine is not in de market." 

" But if you lost it, you would have the satisfaction 
of knowing that you died for your country." 

" What satisfaction would dat be to me when de power 
ob feelin' was gone ?" 

" Then patriotism and honor are nothing to you ?" 

" Nuffin whatever, sa' — I regard dem as among de 
wanities." 

" If our soldiers were like you, traitors might have 
broken up the Government without resistance." 

"Yes, sa,' dar would hab been no help for it. I 
wouldn't put my life in de scale 'ginst any gobernment 
dat ever existed, for no gobernment could replace de loss 
to me." 

"Do you think any of your company would have 
missed you if you had been killed ?" 

" Maybe not, sa' — a dead white man aint much to 
dese sojers — let alone a dead nigga — but I'd a missed 
myself, and dat was de pint wid me." 



That was an admirable retort of a Union officer, a 
colonel in the Union army, who having been taken 
prisoner by a rebel officer of the same rank, was taken 
by his captor in a railroad car to prison. While seated 
besides his captive, the rebel, for a long time, insulted 
him in the most cowardly and contemptible manner ; 
but finding that his abuse produced no effect beyond a 
contemptuous silence, he went out and returned with a 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL . 440 

particularly black and ragged slave, whom he compelled 
to sit beside the colonel j having done which, he left 
him. Half an hour passed by, when the Confederate 
officer returned, and inquired, with a grin at his white 
prisoner, how he liked his new comrade. "He is not 
such a person as I have been accustomed to associate 
with," was the calm reply ; '' but he is a better bred 
man than the one who last sat beside me." 



The monster shells thrown from the heavy guns of 
the Western gunboats, excited alarm and terror both in 
whites and blacks. The account of their effect on the 
former, given by an old contraband, is somewhat amus- 
ing : 

We were passing along the wharves, a few days ago, 
wondering at the amount of business that was there 
transacted. While standing observing a cargo of horses 
being transferred from a vessel to the shore, an " old 
contraband" appeared at our elbow, touching his fur hat, 
and scraping an enormous foot. He opened his battery 
upon us with the following : 

" Well, boss, how is yer ?" 

" Pretty well, daddy ; how are you ?" 

" I'se fuss rate, I is. B'long to old Burnemside's boys, 
does yer?" 

"Yes, I belong to that party. Great boys, ain't 
they?" 

'• Well, I thought yer b'longed to that party. Great 
man, he is, dat's sartin. Yes, sir. We waited and 
waited ; we heard yer was comin', but we mos' guv yer 

29 



450 AKMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSriTAL. 

up. 'Deed we jest did ; but one mornin' Ave heard de 
big guns, way down ribber, go bang, bang, bang, and de 
folks round yere begun to cut dar stick luitey short, and 
trabble up de rail-track. Den, bress de good Lord, we 
knowed yer was comiu', but we held our jaw. Bymebv 
de sojers begun to cut dar stick, too, and dey trabble 1 
Goraniity, 'pears dey make de dirt fly ! Ya, ha !" 

'' Why, were they scared so bad ?" 

" De sojers didn't skeor um so much as dem black 
boats. Kase, yer see, de sojers shot solid balls, and dey 
not mind dem so much ; but when dein boats say 
b-o-o-m, dey know de rotten balls was comin', and dey 
skeeted quickern a streak of litenm'." 

" "What rotten balls did the boats throw at them ?" 

"Don't yer know? Why, (7^?j IkiUs ihxt are hud ; 
dey're rotten, an' ily all to bit.*^ — 'deed does dey — play 
de very debbil wid yer. No dodgin' dem dere balls ; 
kase yer dunno whare dey fly too — strike yah and fly 
yandah ; dat's what skeered 'em so bad !" 

** "Well, what are you going to do when the war's 
over ?' 

''Dunno; p'raps T goes No fl' wid d is crowd. Prctty 
nuich so, 1 !;ues3. 'Pears to me dis chile had better be 



During the riot in New York city, in July, 1863, the 
negroes were in great peril from the riotere, and many 
of them owed their escape to the " ready wit" of some 
of their friends and employers. The following was one 
of numerous instances of this : 

While President Acton, at the police headquarters, 




Surrender of General Lee. 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 451 

was giving some final orders to a squad of men who 
were just leaving to disperse the crowd in First Avenue, 
a wagon containing a hogshead was driven rapidly up 
to the Mulberry street door by a lad, who appeared 
much excited and almost breathless. 

'' What have you there, my lad ?" said President 
Acton. 

'■^ Supplies for your men," was the answer. 
''What are they?" 

" It's an assorted lot, sir; but the people say it's con- 
traband." 

Being exceedingly busy, Acton ordered the wagon to 
be driven round to the Mott street entrance, where an 
officer was sent to look after the goods. When the 
wagon arrived the officers were about to tip the cask out^ 
but were prevented by the boy, who exclaimed : 

" Wait a minute — bring me a hatchet." A hatchet 
was brought, and the little fellow set to work unheading 
the cask ; and as he did so the officers were astonished 
to f^ee two full-grown negroes snugly packed inside. 
Upon being assured by the lad that they were safe, they 
raised their heads, took a long snuff* of fresh air, and 
exclaimed, "Bress de Lord!" 

The boy stated that the rioters had chased the poor 
unfortunates into the rear of some houses on the west 
side of the town, and that they had escaped by scaling 
a fence and landing in a grocer's yard ; that the grocer 
was friendly to them, but feared his place might be 
sacked if they were found there. He accordingly hit 
upon this novel plan of getting them out, and while he 
kept watch in front the boy coopered up the negroes. 
The cask was then rolled out like a hogshead of sugar, 



452 AKMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HUSFITAL. 

placed ill the wagon, aud driven oil' to Mulberry 
street. 

Heading up the darkies headed off the mob that time. 



We presume the slaveholder whose slaves were dis- 
posed of by his friend as related below, hardly contem- 
plated adding recruits to the Union army, but he could 
not complain of his friend for obeying orders : 

A slaveholder from the country approached an old 
acquaintance, also a slaveholder, residing in Nashville, 
the other day, and said : 

*' I have several negro men lurking about here some- 
where. I wish you would look out for them, and when 
you find them, do with them as if they were your own." 

•' Certainly I will," replied his friend. 

A few days after the parties met again, and the 
planter asked : 

'' Have you found my slaves ?" 

"I have." 

•'And where are they ?" 

*' Well, you told me to do with them just as if they 
were my own, and as I made my men enlist in the 
Union army, I did the same with yours." 

The astonished planter " absquatulated." 



A VERY independent darkey was Sam, as the reader 
will discern : 

During the winter of 1863, a contraband came into 
the Federal lines in North Carolina, and marched up to 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 453 

the officer of the day to report himself, whereupon the 
following colloquy ensued : 

*' What's your name ?" 

" My name's Sam." 

"Sam what?" 

" No, sah — not Sam Watt. I'se just Sara." 

" What's your other name ?" 

" I hasn't got no oder name, sah ! I'se Sam — dat s all.'* 

'^ What's your master's name ?" 

"I'se got no massa, now — massa runned away — yah! 
yah! I'se free nigger, now." 

" Well, what's your father and mother's name?" 

"I'se got none, sah — neber had none. I'se jist Sara 
— aint nohody eUeT 

" Haven't you any brothers and sisters ?" 

" No, sah — neber had none. No brudder, no sister, 
no fader, no mudder, no massa — nothin' but Sam, 
When you see Sara, you see all dere is of us'' 



In West Point, Virginia, there was a negro scout, 
named Clairborne, in the employ of the Union forces, 
who was a shrewd hand at escaping from the rebels. 
He was evidently a full-blooded African, with big lips 
and flat nose, and, having lived in this vicinity all his 
life, was familiar with the country, which rendered hira 
a very valuable aid. 

On Clairborne's last trip inside the enemy's lines, after 
scouting around as much as he wished, he picked up 
eight chickens and started for camp. His road led past 
the house of a secesh doctor named Roberts, who knew 
him, and who ordered him to stop, which, of course, 



454 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, 1''I::L[), AND HOSPITAL. 

Clairborne had no idea of doing, and kept on, when the 
doctor fired on him and gave chase, shouting at the top 
of his voice. The negro was making good time toward 
camp, when, all at once, he was confronted by a Avhole 
regiment of soldiers, who ordered bhn to halt. For a 
moment the scout was dumbfounded, and thought his 
hour had come, but the next he sang out : 

'' The Yankees are coming ! the Yankees are coming !" 

*' Where ? where ?" inquired the rebels. 

"Just up in front of Dr. Roberts' house, in a piece of 
woods. Dr. Roberts sent me down to tell you to come 
up quick, or they'll kill the whole of us." 

" Come in ! — come into camp !" said the soldiers. 

^•' No — no," said the cute African, " I've got to go 
down and tell the cavalry pickets, and can't wait a 
second." So off he sprang, with a bound, running for 
dear life — the rebs, discovering the ruse, chasing him for 
three miles, and he running six, when he got safely into 
camp, but minus his chickens, which he had dropped at 
the first fire. 



A GOOD USE OF ROMAN CANDLES. 

The construction of the firework called the Roman 
candle is known to most of our readers, and the fact is 
famihar that when fired they project, in succession, and 
at intervals of about three seconds, a number of bril- 
liantly luminous balls. These balls are thrown many 
feet, and cast a clear light for two or three seconds. 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 455 

We doubt whether the military use of the candles we 
instance has ever before been made : 



At the siege of Knoxville, the enemy attempted to 
storm before daylight one of the forts — we have for- 
gotten the name, but it was the one before which the 
wires which so conveniently tripped up the enemy were 
arranged. In this fort was stationed Lieutenant Charles 
Herzog, of the Signal Corps, and as a part of his equip- 
ment, he was furnished with twenty or thirty Roman 
candles, containing about twelve balls each. When 
used as signals, the candles are fired vertically, and the 
balls are visible at a great distance. 

The lieutenant knew of this use of his candles, but 
it needed the inspiration of battle to develop the other. 
He had it. Before dawn, one day, the pickets were 
driven in, and the enemy were swarming after them. 
They came on over a crest about eight hundred yards 
distant, and our great guns opened, but the aim was 
wild — there was need of light. Light there mitst be, 
or the heavy masses thronging up to the work would 
sweep its parapet, and the day was lost. Then came 
the inspiration. At the first alarm the faithful officer 
had sent his signal-balls whirling into the air, announc- 
ing the alarm to every distant station. AVith the gleam 
of its balls an idea gleamed upon him. His action, as 
it, was instant. Putting his match to another candle, 
he aimed it fairly over the heads of the enemy, and as 
they came closing up, the sparkling balls, hanging over 
them, revealed to Johnny Reb not only that there was 
to be no surprise of that fort, but that his own dark 
ways were to be lighted. The experiment was a sue- 



456 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

cess. The great crowd of charging rebels stood out in 
fair relief in the glare — the distance had lessened to 
about three hundred yards — and our pieces, crammed 
with canister, opened on a mark perhaps as good as 
could have been had hy daylight — only the light was 
not continuous. Tl]e staunch lieutenant did not fail in 
expedients. He sent half his candles by one of his as- 
sistants to the opposite angle of the fort, and then they 
opened fire together, crossing fire above and in front of 
the enemy. Now a ball was in the air all the time. 
Those who have seen batterries of Roman candles at 
displays of fireworks, can appreciate the ejffect. It 
puzzled the enemy, and it amazed them ; many of the 
wild white trash had never seen a Roman candle ; how 
could they tell but these w^ere some infernal explosions 
of " Yankee device ?" It lighted up all the ground to 
the very edge of the ditch, and musketry and cannon 
shot swept into their ranks in storms. That they came 
on and bravely, we know, and that they left in front 
of the work, more in dead and wounded, by almost 
twice, than its garrison. It was useless. They w^ere 
fairly and thoroughly whipped. In twenty minutes all 
was over, and the last of Herzog's candles lighted up a 
completely baffled enemy. 



Trying to Persuade Mr. Greeley to Enlist. — Ow 
of the New York dailies, in 1861, got off the following 
very good story, of the efibrts of some of the Duryea 



ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 457 

Zouaves, to persuade the "philosopher" of the Tribune 
to enhst in their regiment. 

While walking up the Bowery, a few days ago, we 
noticed a small-sized crowd in front of the recruiting 
office of Duryea's Zouaves, between Hester and Grand 
streets. Upon coming up to the gathering, we discovered 
the well-known figure of Horace Greeley, surrounded by 
some half-dozen red-breeched and turbaned soldiers. 

"• Come, Mr. Greeley !" exclaimed a strapping fellow, 
who stood six feet high and was proportion ably broad 
across the chest and shoulders, " now's your time to 
enlist! We give one hundred and eighty-eight dollars 
bounty to day. Wont you go to the war with us ?" 

"Gentlemen !" answered the philosopher, " it's impossi- 
ble. I am too old ; besides, I am doing a great deal 
more service at home." 

" Then 3-ou wont go T asked another Zouave. 

" I cannot do it, my friend," replied Horace. 

"You aint afraid, are you? You don't know how 
well you'd look, until you saw yourself dressed up in 
Zouave uniform," chimed in another. 

" I have no doubt I should cut a pretty figure in your 
dress " 

"Especially if you wore a white coat," interrupted a 
waggish bystander. 

" But that is nothing, my friends. Dress neither 
makes men nor soldiers. Principle, good character, 
good habits, and resolution are every thing." 

"Oh 3-es, that's all right — but that aint enlisting," 
persisted the first speaker. " Uncle Sam wants soldiers, 
and talking or writing isn't the thing. There's lots of 



458 ARMY LIFE IN CAMP, FIELD, AND HOSPITAL. 

men older than 3-ou in the ranks, and any quantity of 
editors, reporters, and printers. If a few men like you 
enlisted, our regiments would soon fill up." 

'* That is true — but it is impossible for me to join you,'' 
continued Horace. 

•• You'd soon get a chance to wear the straps. Maybe 
you might sport a spread eagle.'' put in another Zou-zou, 
persuasively. 

"No, no; gentlemen. I must leave you; but." — 
turning around in a quiet manner and eyeing the crowd, 
which by this time was considerable, ** perhaps some of 
these citizens I see gathered about you will volunteer. 
If any one will do so. I will give an extra bountv*. 
Does any one wish to join ? " 

At this unexpected offer the crowd began to give 
way and scatter about, while several proposed three 
cheers for the white-coated philosopher. We did not 
hear whether Greeley secured any recruits by his extra 
bounty : but he soon after moved ofi', followed by the 
Zou-zous. who laughed quite heartily at the attempt 
made to entrap Horace into the Union army. 



:e>.a.i^t zat". 



DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 



THE FIGHT WITH THE '^ALBEMARLE." 

One of the most remarkable naval conflicts of this or 
any other war — a single-handed encounter between a 
delicate river steamer and a most formidable " iron-clad" 
— occurred on the 5th of Ma}^, 1864, in Albemarle 
sound, about twenty miles below the mouth of the 
Roanoke river. On the afternoon of that day, three side- 
wheel gunboats, the '' Mattabesett," '' Sassacus," and 
" Wyalusing," were lying at anchor in the sound, await- 
ing the appearance of the "Albemarle," a most formida- 
ble rebel iron-clad ram, whose recent exploits in sinking 
two of our gunboats, near Plymouth, rendered the pro- 
longed occupation of the sound by our forces somewhat 
uncertain and problematical. To the three vessels above 
named had been especially assigned the duty of encoun- 
tering and, if possible, destroying this dreaded iron 
monster ; and, on the afternoon in question, an advance- 
guard of picket boats, comprising four or five of the 
smaller vessels of the Union fleet, with the " Miami," 
iiad been sent up to the mouth of the Roanoke, with the 
design of decoying the rebel "ram" from under the pro- 
tection of the batteries at Plymouth into the open waters 

(459) 



460 DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 

of the sound. The ruse succeeded, and fallin<>: back be- 
fore the "•Albemarle," as she left her moorings to pursue 
them, they quickly drew her into a favorable position 
for attack. Shortly after three P. M., in obedience to 
signals from the "Mat^abesett," the three vessels got 
under way, and forming in line ahead, in the order in 
which their names are above written, proceeded at ordi- 
nary speed up the sound. At four P. M. the '•' Matta- 
besett" communicated with the army transport '' Massa- 
soit," coming down, and immediately signalled to her 
consorts the "ram is out." Almost at the same instant 
they discovered the picket boats falling back slowly 
before the advancing foe ; and bej'ond them a glistening 
speck upon the waters, w^ith two other dark objects 
hovering near, which they knew to be the ram, accom- 
panied by her consorts. The Union vessels were now 
cleared for action, and every preparation was made for 
a determined struii'ii'le with their formidable autaoonist, 
toward whom they were driving under full steam. The 
day was charming, the broad expanse of water was un- 
disturbed by a ripple, while the sun's beams were 
dazzlingly reflected from the inclined sides of the "Albe- 
marle," til] she seemed like a mass of silver, while above 
her waved an unusually large and handsome Confederate 
flag. The rebels were now seen to be communicating 
by boats, and one of their vessels, a white, stern-wheel 
steamer, which was afterward ascertained to be the 
"Cotton Plant," cotton-clad, and manned by two liun- 
dred sharpshooters and boarders, put hastily back to 
Phanouth. The other steamer, which proved to be the 
"Bombshell," closed up on the "ram's" quarter, in 
readiness for the coming conflict. 



DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 461 

Sweeping gracefully along, under a full head of steam, 
the Union vessels approached, and while the " Matta- 
besett" hauled up abreast of the ^'Albemarle," the 
*' Miami," some distance astern, threw a good but in- 
effectual shot, to which the " ram" promptly responded 
from guns that were evidently of the heaviest calibre. 
Almost at the same moment the '^ Mattabesett" deliv- 
ered her full broadside, at three hundred yards' distance, 
and sweeping round the " ram's" stern, ran by the " Bomb- 
shell," close aboard, while the latter lay in the quarter 
post of the " ram." The '• Sassacus" now entered the 
light, and the "ram," which had failed to get at the 
'* Mattabesett" as she swept by, turned her bow squarely 
for the former, whose pilot, quickly measuring the distance, 
sheered his vessel slightly, and passed some one hundred 
and fifty yards ahead of the '^Albemarle," the "Sassa- 
cus" delivering Avith precision her whole broadside of 
solid shot, which, howevei-, rebounded from the iron- 
clad like cork balls. Then, sweeping around the 
st^rn of the "Albemarle," the " Sassacus" paid her 
attentions to the " Bombshell," by whose sharpshooters 
she had been considerably annoyed, and poured into 
her hull a full broadside, which brought the rebel 
ensign down, and sent the white Hag up in short order. 
Directing her to drop out of fire and anchor, which order 
was promptly executed in good faith, the " Sassacus" 
turned again to the "Albemarle," whom she found hotly 
engaged by the " Mattabesett" and " Wyalusing." The 
latter was particularly attracting the attention of the 
"ram," which was steaming slowl3% though using her 
guns rapidly and with eftect, and whose whole side was 
just then most opportunely exposed to the " Sassacus," 



462 DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 

now only some eight hundred yards distant. Compre- 
hending, at a glance, the value of the opportunity thus 
offered, the gallant captain of the " Sassacus" unhesitat- 
ingly gave a preconcerted signal, " four bells," again and 
again repeated, to the engineer, and the ship was headed 
straight for what was supposed to be the "ram's" weakest 
part, where the casemate or house joined the hull. The 
fires were clear, and with thirty pounds of steam on, 
and throttle wide open, the '' Sassacus" dashed upon 
her adversary, under a headway of nine or ten knots, 
striking her a fair, square, right-angled blow, without 
glance or slide ! The iron-clad reeled under the blow, 
and her black hull was forced inider water b\^ the bow 
of the " Sassacus," till the water flowed over it from side 
to side, and it seemed as if the monster was sinking. 
''As we struck her," says one of the participants in the 
fight, " the ' ram' drove a one hundred pounder Brooke's 
shot through and through us, from starboard bow to port 
side. Our stem was forced into her side, and keeping 
up our headway we careened her down beneath our 
weight, and pushed her like an inert mass beneath our 
weight, while, in profound silence, our gunners were 
training their heavy ordnance to bear upon our aston- 
ished enemy. Now a black muzzle protrudes from the 
' ram's' open port, and the loaders of our Parrott rifle, 
standing on the slide, served the gun within fifteen feet 
of that yawning cannon's mouth. It was a grand repro- 
duction of the old da7/s of * broadside to broadside,' and 
' yar.l-arm locked to yard ;' but the immense guns, now 
grinning defiance across the few feet of space which sep- 
arated them, each one carrying the weight of metal of 
a whole tier of the old time carronades, rendered this 



DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 463 

duel of ponderous ordnance a magnificent and imposing 
spectacle. 

'' Still we pushed her broadside-to before us, our engine 
at full speed, pressing our bow deeper and deeper into 
her. Still she gave way. "" * * It was a grapple for life. 
A silent but fearful struggle for the mastery, relieved 
only by the sharp, scattering volleys of musketry, the 
whizzing of leaden bullets, and the deep, muffled explo- 
sion of hand grenades, which the brave fellow in our 
foretop was flinging in the enemy's hatch, driving back 
their sharpshooters, and creating consternation and 
dismay among the closely packed crew of the iron-clad ; 
but not until our pilot house and smoke stack had been 
spattered all over with the indentation of rifle balls. 
No one had yet fallen. We had thrown shot and shell 
square into her ports from our rifle guns on the hurri- 
cane deck, and driven volley after volley of musketry 
through every aperture in her iron shield, and now 
our heavy one hundred pounder was training for another 
crushing blow." 

At this juncture, the sharp, false stern of the " Sassa- 
cus," which had cut deeply into the side of the ram, 
gave way under the pressure, and the two vessels swung 
around abreast of each other, their guns thundering 
away with simultaneous roar. At the same moment a 
shot from the "Albemarle" pierced the boiler of the 
" Sassacus," and then was heard the terrible sound of 
unloosed, unmanageable steam, rushing in tremendous 
volumes, seething and hissing as it spread, till both 
combatants were enveloped and hidden in the dense, 
suffocating vapor. Now the contest deepened in inten- 
sity, it was a savage fight for life. The gunners of the 



464 DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 

"Sassacus"felt that their only chance of injuring their an- 
tagonist was to throw their shots with accuracy into her 
open ports, and that upon their own frail wooden vessel 
the enemy's every shot would tell with terrible effect. 
Muzzle to muzzle, the guns were served and fired, the 
powder from those of the ''Albemarle" blackening the 
bows and side of the " Sassacus," as they passed within 
ten feet. A solid shot from the latter's hundred pounder 
struck the "Albemarle's" port sill, and crumbled into 
fragments, one piece rebounding to the deck of the 
'•'Sassacus," and the rest entering the port hole and 
silencing the enemy's gun. Through the same opening, 
followed, in rapid succession, a nine inch solid shot, and 
a twenty pounder shell, and as the tough-hided " ram" 
drifted clear, the starboard wheel of the " Sassacus" 
ground over her quarter, smashing the launches that 
she was towing into shapeless drift wood, and grating 
over the sharp iron plates with a raw, dismal sound. 
Then, as the " ram" passed the wheel of the " Sassacus," 
the crew of the latter drove solid shot into her ports 
from their after guns — and her armor was rent by a 
solid shot from the Parrott rifle gun, which, however, 
had received such damage to its elevating screw that it 
could not be depressed so as to fire into the enemy's ports. 
All this cool gunnery and precise artillery practice trans- 
pired while the ship, from fire room to hurricane deck, was 
shrouded in one dense cloud of fiery steam. The situation 
was appalling as imagination can conceive. The shrieks 
of the scalded and dying sufferers, rushing frantically up 
from below, the shrivelled flesh hanging shred-like from 
their tortured limbs, the engine without control, surging 
and revolving without check or guide, abandoned by 



DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 465 

all save the heroic engineer, who, scalded, blackened, 
sightless, still stood to his post with an indomitable will 
which no agony of pain could swerve from his duty, 
and whose clear voice, sounding out from amidst that 
mass of unloosed steam and uncontrollable machinery, 
urged his men to return with him into the fire room, to 
drag the fires from beneath the uninjured boiler, now in 
imminent danger of explosion. His marvellous fortitude 
in that hour of intense agony, aided by the bravery of 
his assistants, saved the lives of the two hundred persons 
on board the ship-=— for, as there was no means of in- 
stantly cutting off communication between the two boilers, 
and all the steam in both rushed out like a flash, the 
vessel was exposed to the additional horror of fire. 
All this time, in the midst of this thick white cloud of 
stifling vapor, the ''" Sassacus" moved on, working slowly 
ahead on a vacuum alone ; but her guns thundering 
steadily and indomitably against her adversary. At 
last, the cloud of steam lifted from off" the scene of con- 
flict, and the rebel ''Albemarle" was seen gladly escap- 
ing from the close lock in which she had been held, for 
nearly a quarter of an hour, by her slight but stubborn 
antagonist. Her broad ensign trailed, draggled and 
torn, upon her deck, and she loooked far difierent from 
the trim, jaunty, and formidable vessel which an hour 
before had defied the slender river craft who had 
vanquished her. The gallant captain of the " Sas- 
sacus" could not refrain from giving her " another turn," 
and turning his vessel around, with helm " hard-a-port,'' 
which she answered slowly but steadily, she again passed 
down by the "Albemarle." The divisions stood at their 
guns, the captain calmly smoking his cigar, gave his 
30 



466 DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 

orders with surpassing coolness, and directing the move- 
ments of his vessel with wonderful precision and relent- 
less audacity, kept his guns at work, so long as they 
could be brought to bear upon the retiring foe, till the 
*' Sassacus" was carried, by her disabled engine, slowly, 
gracefully, and defiantly out of range. 

Of course, in this hand-to-hand fight between the "• Sas- 
sacus" and ''Albemarle," little aid could be rendered, at 
close quarters, by the former's consorts, as such aid would 
have merely endangered her safety. Yet, the " Wyalu- 
sing," the " Mattabesett" and the " Miami" did effective 
service, as opportunity offered, and the little" Whitehead," 
during the fiercest of the fight, steamed alongside of the 
iron monster, and delivered shot after shot from her one 
hundred pounder Parrott gun. The " Commodore 
Hull" and " Ceres" were also gallantly handled, and 
rendered all the assistance in their power. 

But the main brunt of this novel and unequal engage- 
ment fell upon the " Sassacus," an inland light draught 
river steamer. The result, so contrary to all precon- 
ceived ideas of '' iron-clad" invincibility, was eminently 
gratifying. The rebel gunboat " Bombshell," with four 
rifled guns and a large supply of ammunition, was cap- 
tured, with all her officers and crew, and the "Albe- 
marle," which was on her way to Newborn to form a 
junction with the rebel force then moving upon that 
place, was beaten with her own weapons, in a fair stand 
up fight, and driven back with her guns disabled, her 
hull terribly shaken, and leaking so badly that she was 
with difficulty kept afloat. Twice, also, had her flag 
been cut down and trailed in the water which swept 
over her deck. Her discomfiture proved to be the saving 



DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 467 

of Newbern, which had already been summoned to 
surrender by the rebel General Palmer, and undoubtedly 
it prevented the whole Department of North Carolina 
from being lost to our Government. The " Sassacus," 
although disabled in guns, machinery, and hull, and 
suffering severely in killed, wounded, and scalded, was 
ready, with two months' repair, to return again to active 
duty, staunch and strong as ever. Her exploit, on the 
5th of May, 1864, justly ranks as one of the most re- 
markable on record, while the skill and coolness of her 
officers, and the indomitable bravery of her crew rivals 
the heroic traditions of the days of Decatur and Com- 
modore John Paul Jones. 



The Brave Wisconsin Boy. — An example of almost 
superhuman endurance and spirit, as related by Dr. Voor- 
hies, of Mississippi, a gentleman far too intelligent and 
skilful to be engaged in such a cause otherwise than in 
alleviating its miseries, is as follows : 

"' When, at the bombardment of Fort Henry, a young 
Wisconsin boy, who had by some means been made a 
prisoner, had his arm shattered by a ball from our gun- 
boats, he was taken to one of the huts, where Dr. Voor- 
hies attended to him. He had just bared the bone, 
when an enormous shell came crashing through the hut. 
The little fellow, without moving a muscle, talked with 
firmness during the operation of sawing the bone, when 
another went plunging close by them. The doctor re- 



468 DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 

marked that it was getting to hot for him, and picked 
the boy up in his arms, and carried him into one of the 
bomb-proofs, where the operation was completed. Tlie 
only answer of the Northerner was : * if you think this hot, 
it will be a good deal too hot for you by-and-by.' ' And,' 
says the doctor, ' I should like to see that boy again. 
He is the bravest little fellow I ever saw.' " 



A Gallant Boy. — Captain Boggs, of the " Varuna," 
tells a story of a brave boy who was on board his 
vessel during the bombardment of the forts on the 
Mississippi river. The lad, who answers to the name 
of Oscar, was but thirteen years of age, but he has an 
old head on his shoulders, and is alert and energetic. 
During the hottest of the fire he was busily engaged in 
passing ammunition to the gunners, and narrowly escaped 
death when one of the terrific broadsides of the " Varuna's" 
rebel antagonist was poured in. Covered with dirt and 
begrimed with powder, he was met by Captain Boggs, 
who asked ''where he was going in such a hurry?" 

" To get a passing-box, sir ; the other one was smashed 
by a ball !" And so, throughout the fight, the brave 
lad held his place and did his duty. 

When the ''Varuiia" went down, Captain Boggs missed 
his boy, and thought he was among the victims of the 
battle. But a few minutes afterward he saw the lad 
gallantly swimming toward the wreck. Clambering on 
board of Captain Boggs' boat, he threw his hand up to 
his forehead, giving the usual salute, and uttering only 
the words, " All right, sir ! I report myself on board," 
passed coolly to his station. 



DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 469 



THE DESTRUCTION OF THE '^ALBEMARLE." 

The rebel iron-clad ram, the "Albemarle," whose con- 
test with and discomfiture by the " Sassacus," in May, 
1864, has been previously described in this volume, and 
which had become a formidable obstruction to the occu- 
pation of the North Carolina sounds by the Union 
forces, finally met her fate in October of the same year. 
During the previous summer. Lieutenant W. B. Cushing, 
commanding the " Monticello," one of the sixteen ves- 
sels engaged in watching the '' ram," conceived the plan 
of destroying their antagonist by means of a torpedo. 
Upon submitting the plan to Rear-Admiral Lee and the 
Navy Department, he was detached from his vessel, and 
sent to New York to provide the articles necessar}^ for 
his purpose, and these preparations having been at last 
completed, he returned again to the scene of action. 
His plan was to affix his newly-contrived torpedo appa- 
ratus to one of the picket launches — little steamers not 
larger than a seventy-four's launch, but fitted with a 
compact engine, and designed to relieve the seamen 
of the fatigue of pulling about at night on the naval 
picket line — and of which half a dozen had been then 
recently built under the superintendence of Captain 
Boggs, of '' Varuna" fame. Under Lieutenant Cush- 
ing's supervision, picket launch No. 1 was supplied 
with the torpedo — which was carried in a basket, fixed 
to a long arm, which could be propelled, at the impor- 
tant moment, from the vessel in such a manner as to 
reach the side of the vessel to be destroyed, there to be 



470 DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 

fastened, and exploded at the will of those in the tor- 
pedo boat, without serious risk to themselves. Having 
prepared his boat, he selected thirteen men, six of whom 
were officers, to assist him in the undertaking. His 
first attempt to reach the ^'Albemarle" failed, as his 
boat got aground, and was only with difficulty released. 
On the following night, however, he again set out upon 
his perilous duty, determined and destined, this time, to 
succeed. Moving cautiously, with muffled oars, up the 
narrow Roanoke, he skilfully eluded the observation of the 
numerous forts and pickets with which that river was 
lined, and passing within twenty yards of a picket vessel, 
without detection, he soon found himself abreast of the 
town of Plymouth. The night was very dark and stormy, 
and having thus cleared the pickets, the launch crossed to 
the other side of the river opposite the town, and sweep- 
ing round, came down upon the ''Albemarle" from up 
the stream. The " ram" was moored near a wharf, and 
by the light of a large camp fire on the shore, Gushing 
saw a large force of infantry, and also discerned that the 
''ram" was protected by a boom of pine logs, which ex- 
tended about twenty feet from her. The watch on the 
"Albemarle" knew nothing of his approach till he was 
close upon them, when they hailed, "What boat is 
that?" and were answered, "the 'Albemarle's' boat;" 
and the same instant the launch struck, " bows on," 
against the boom of logs, crushing them in about ten 
feet, and running its bows upon them. She was imme- 
diately greeted with a heavy and incessant infimtry fire 
from the shore, while the ports of the "Albemarle" were 
opened, and a gun trained upon the daring party. 
Gushing promptly replied with a dose of canister, but 



DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 471 

the gallant young fellow had enough for one man to 
manage. He had a line attached to his engineer's leg, 
to pull in lieu of bell signals ; another line to detach the 
torpedo, and another to explode it, besides this, he 
managed the boom which was to place the torpedo under 
the vessel, and fired the howitzer with his own hand. 
But he coolly placed the torpedo in its place and ex- 
ploded it. At the same moment he was struck on the 
right wrist with a musket ball, and a shell from the 
'"Albemarle" went crashing through the launch. The 
whole affair was but the work of a few minutes. 
Each man had now to save himself as best he might. 
Gushing threw off his coat and shoes, and leaping into 
the water, struck out for the opposite shore, but the cries 
of one of his drowning men attracting the enemy's fire, 
he turned down the stream. The water was exceed- 
ingly cold, and his heavy clothing rendered it very dif- 
ficult for him to keep afloat, and after about an hour's 
swimming he went ashore, and fell exhausted upon the 
bank. On coming to his senses, he found himself near 
a sentry and two officers, who were discussing the affair, 
and heard them say that Gushing was dead. Thinking 
that he had better increase the distance between the 
rebels and himself, he managed to shore himself along 
on his back, by working with his heels against the 
ground, until he reached a place of concealment. 

After dark, he proceeded through the swamp for some 
distance, lacerating his feet and hands with the briars 
and oyster shells. He next day met an old negro whom 
he thought he could trust. The negro was frightened at 
Gushing's wild appearance, and tremblingly asked who 
he was. " I am a Yankee," replied Gushing, " and I 



472 DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 

am one of the men who blew up the 'Albemarle.' " 
*' My golly, massa !" said the negro, '' dey kill you if 
dey catch you. You dead gone sure." Cushing asked 
him if he could trust him to go into the town and bring 
him back the news. The negro assented, and Cushing 
gave him all the money he had, and sent him off. He 
then climbed up a tree and opened his jack-knife, the 
only weapon he had, and prejDared for any attack which 
might be made. 

After a time the negro came back, and to Cushing's 
joy, reported the "Albemarle" sunk and the people 
leaving the town. Cushing then went further down the 
river, and found a boat on the opposite bank belonging 
to a picket guard. He once more plunged into the 
chilly river, and detached the boat, but, not daring to 
get into it, let it drift down the river, keeping himself 
concealed. At last, thinking he was far enough away 
to elude observation, he got into the boat, and paddled 
for eight hours, until he reached the squadron. After 
hailing them, he fell into the bottom of the boat, utterly 
exhausted by hunger, cold, fatigue, and excitement, to 
the surprise of the j^eople in the squadron, who were 
somewhat distrustful of him when he first hailed, think- 
ing him a rebel who was trying some trick. 

Nothing, indeed, but an overruling Providence and 
an iron will ever saved Cushing from death. He saAv 
two of his men drown, who were stronger than he, and 
said of himself, that when he paddled his little boat, his 
arms and his will were the only living parts of his organ- 
ization. 

One man of the party returned on the " Yalley City," 



DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 473 

having been picked up after he had travelled across the 
country, and been in the swamps nearly two days. 

But oiie or two were wounded, and the larger part 
were captured hy the rebels, being unable to extricate 
themselves from their perilous position among the logs 
of the boom, under the guns of the " ram." The "Albe- 
marle" had one of her bows stove in by the explosion 
of the torpedo, and sank at her moorings within a few 
moments, without loss of life to her crew. Her fate 
opened the river to the Union forces, who quickly occu- 
pied Plymouth — the North Carolina sounds were again 
cleared from rebel craft, and the large jQeet of vessels, 
which had been occupied in watching the iron-clad, w^ere 
released from that arduous duty. Lieutenant Gushing, 
to whose intrepidity and skill the country is indebted 
for these results, was engaged in thirty-five fights during 
the war, and, exhausted as he was after this gallant 
exploit, made the journey to his home in Western New 
York, near Dunkirk, to vote, being one of those who 
believes that ballots are as important as bullets, in the 
preservation of the National life and liberties. 



HETTY McEWEN. 

AN INCIDENT OF THE OCCUPATION OF NASHVILLE. 

BY LUCY HAMILTON HOOPER. 

Hetty McEwen ! Hetty McEwen'^ 
What were the angry rebels (icing, 
That autumn day, in Nashville town ? 
They looked aloft with oath and frown, 



474 DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 

And saw the Stars and Stripes wave high 
Against the blue of the sunny sky ; 
Deep was the oath, and dark the frown, 
And loud the shout of " Tear it down !" 

For over Nashville, far and wide, 
Rebel banners the breeze defied, 
Staining heaven with crimson bars ; 
Only the one old " Stripes and Stars" 
Waved, where autumn leaves were strewing, 
Round the home of Hetty McEwen. 

Hetty McEwen watched that day 
Where her son on his death-bed lay ; 
She heard the hoarse and angry cry — 
The blood of " '76 " rose high. 
Out-flashed her eye, her cheek grew warm. 
Uprose her aged stately form ; 
From her window, with steadfast brow. 
She looked upon the crowd below. 

Ej'^es all aflame with angry fii-e 

Flashed on her in defiant ire, 

And once more rose the angry call, 

" Tear down that flag, or the house shall fall 1" 

Never a single inch quailed she, 

Her answer rang out firm and free : 

" Under the roof where that flag flies, 

Now my son on his death-bed lies ; 

Born where that banner floated high, 

'Neath its folds he shall surely die. 

Not for threats nor yet for suing 

Shall it fall," said Hetty McEwen. 

The loyal heart and steadfast hand 
Claimed respect from the traitor baud ; 
The fiercest rebel quailed that da}^ 
before that woman stern and gray. 
They went in silence, one by one — 
Left her there with her dying son. 



DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 475 

And left the old flag floating free 

O'er the bravest heart in Tennessee, 

To wave in loyal splendor there 

Upon that treason-tainted air, 

Until the rebel rule was o'er 

And Nashville town was ours once more. 

Came the day when Fort Donelson 

Fell, and the rebel reign was done ; 

And into Nashville, Buell, then, 

Marched with a hundred thousand men. 

With waving flags and rolling drums 

Past the heroine's house he comes ; 

He checked his steed and bared his head, 

" Soldiers! salute that flag," he said ; 

"And cheer, boys, cheer 1 — give three times three 

For the bravest woman in Tennessee !" 



One OF Logan's Men. — At Fort Donelson a young 
man, attached to the Thirty-first Regiment of Illinois 
Volunteers (Colonel John A. Logan), received a musket- 
shot wound in the right thigh, the ball passing through 
the intervening flesh, and lodging in the left thigh. 
The boy repaired to the rear and applied to the doctor 
to dress his wound. He, however, manifested a peculiar 
reserve in the matter, requesting the doctor to keep his 
misfortune a secret from his comrades and officers. He 
then asked the surgeon if he would dress his wound at 
once, in order that he might be enabled to return to the 
fight. The surgeon told him that he was not in a con- 
dition to admit of his return, and that he had better go 
to the hospital ; but the young brave insisted upon going 
back, ofiering as an argument in favor of it the fact that 
he had fired twenty- two rounds after receiving his wound, 
and lie was confident he could fire as many more aftei 



476 DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 

his wound sliould be dressed. The surgeon found he 
could not prevent his returning to the field, so he attend- 
ed to his wants, and the young soldier went off to rejoin 
his comrades in their struggle, and remained, dealing out 
his ammunition to good account until the day was over, 
as if nothing had happened to him. Several days after 
he returned to the doctor to have his wound redressed, 
and continued to pay him daily visits in his leisure hours, 
attending to duty in the meantime. 



The Acre of Fire. — At the battle of luka, Captain, 
afterward Lieutenant-Colonel Arthur C. Ducat, then an 
officer of General Ord's staff, and subsequently Inspector- 
General of the Army of the Cumberland, seeing a divi- 
sion of rebels about to Hank one of the Union regiments, 
rode up and informed Rosecrans of the danger. " Ride 
on and warn Stanley at once," said the general. An 
acre of fire, and showered with bullets, lay between 
them and the menaced troops. The officer looked at it, 
and said: "General, I have a wife and children." 

'' You knew that when you came here," said the gen- 
eral, coolly. 

" I'll go, sir," was the only answer. 

*' Stay a moment. We must make sure of this," and 
hastily writing some despaches, the general called three 
of his orderlies. Giving a despatch to each, he said to 
the officer : '-Now go." He started, and at intervals of 
about fifty yards, bearing a similar message, the order- 
lies followed. The officer ran the fiery gauntlet, and, 
his clothes pierced with bullets, and his horse reeling 
from a mortal wound, reached Stanley — the orderlies 
found their graves on that acre of fire ! 



DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 477 



GENERAL SUMNER AT FAIR OAKS. 

On the first day of that severe battle, the troops were 
trembling under a pitiless storm of bullets, when General 
Sumner galloped up and down the advance line more 
exposed than any private in the ranks. 

'•What regiment is this?" he asked, as he reined in 
his horse in front of one of the regiments which stood 
firmest in that galling fire. 

'•The Fifteenth Massachusetts," replied a hundred 
voices. 

" I, too, am from Massachusetts ; three cheers for our 
old Bay State !" 

And swinging his hat, the general led off, and every 
soldier joined in three thundering cheers. The enemy 
looked on in wonder at the strange episode, but was 
driven back by the fierce charge which followed. 

The courage of the old hero was of the grandest 
order ; it was not the mad excitement which hurries a 
man into deeds of valor, in the rush of battle, of which 
he would be incapable at any other time ; it was cool, 
calm, and deliberate, but unfaltering. 

On this occasion, as on many others, as soon as the 
heavy artillery began to pound, his usually mild eyes 
flashed fire. He removed his artificial teeth, which 
became troublesome in the excitement of battle, and 
placed them deliberately in his pocket, raised his specta- 
cles from his eyes and let them rest upon his forehead, 
that he might see more clearly objects at a distance, 
gave his orders to his subordinates, and then galloped 
headlong into the thickest of the fight. 



478 DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 

Finding his soldiers, most of whom had not before 
been under so severe a fire, becoming excited and un- 
easy, he dashed through the fire and smoke, his tall and 
commanding form erect, his snowy hair streaming in 
the wind, and as he rode along the front, where the men 
were falling like grass before the mower, his clear, ring- 
ing voice was heard all along the line, '' Steady, men, 
steady ! Don't be excited. When you have been sol- 
diers as long as I, you will learn that this is nothing. 
Stand firm, and do your duty I" 

At the end of the second day of that bloody battle of 
Fair Oaks, the troops which with great peril had been 
able to cross the Chickahominy before the bridges were 
carried away with the flood, were under his command ; 
the fighting had been severe, and only parts of three 
shattered corps were left to resist the enemy's entire 
force. The situation was one of great peril, but Sum- 
ner was equal to the occasion. After making his dis- 
position to receive an attack, he sent for General Sedg- 
wick, his special friend, and, like himself, a man of the 
most undaunted courage. When he came. General 
Sumner said : " Sedgwick, you perceive the situation. 
The enemy will doubtless open upon us at daylight. 
Reinforcements are impossible ; he can overwhelm and 
destroy us. But the country cannot afford to have us 
defeated. There is just one thing for us to do. We 
must stand here and die like men ! Impress it upon 
your officers, that we must do this to the last man — to 
the last man ! We may not meet again ; good-by, 
Sedgwick." 

The two grim soldiers shook hands and parted. 
Morning came, but the enemy failing to discover our 



DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 479 

perilous condition, did not renew the attack ; new 
bridges were built, and the sacrifice averted. But Sum- 
ner was the man to have carried out his resolution to 

the letter. 

» II ^ II » 

'* Suffer Most — Love Most." — In a quiet neighbor- 
hood, where there was more latent than practical pa- 
triotism, one earnest woman succeeded, by her energy, 
in awakening an interest in l^ehalf of the country and 
our soldiers. The clergyman of the village opened his 
house to this patriot woman, and all the people vied 
with each other in the service of preparing comforts for 
the soldiers. They started on blackberry brandy and 
cordial, and succeeded in making seventy-six gallons. 
One night, after the clergyman and family had retired, 
they were aroused by some one trying to gain admit- 
tance; they found, upon opening the door, a humble 
man, who was not willing to give his name, but said that 
his children had picked some berries for the soldiers, 
and that he had brought them, after his day's work was 
done, a distance of six miles. It was subsequently as- 
certained that this man had been drafted while the 
three hundred dollar exemption clause was in force. 
With him there was no alternative. His family must 
starve if he left them. He therefore sacrificed every 
thing, save the bare necessities of life, to raise the three 
hundred dollars. His children were stripped of every 
article of clothing save one suit each, and when, during 
this time of rigid economy and trial, another child was 
born, it had literally "nothing to wear." Still this 
iiimily grew strong through suffering, and learned that 
tliey who for their country's sake suffer most, love her 
most. 



480 DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 



"OLD BRADLEY," 

THE TENNESSEE BLACKSMITH. 

The sufferings and sacrifices of the loyal men of East 
Tennessee were as worthy of record as those of the 
Covenanters in Scotland in the time of the Primate 
Sharp, and their courage and daring, and their unselfish 
devotion to the Union and to those who, like themselves, 
were persecuted for their adherence to it, give life and 
interest to some of the most thrilling incidents of the 
war. 

One of these incidents, as related by an East Tennes- 
sean, is the following : 

Near the crossroads, not flir from the Cumberland 
mountains, stood the village forge. The smith was a 
sturdy man of fifty. He was respected, wherever known, 
for his stern integrity. He served God, and did not fear 
man — and it might be safely added, nor devil either. 
His courage was proverbial in the neighborhood ; and it 
was a common remark, when wishing to pay any person 
a high compliment, to say, " He is as brave as Old Brad- 
ley." One night, toward the close of September, as he 
stood alone by the anvil plying his labors, his counte- 
nance evinced a peculiar satisfaction as he brought his 
hammer down with a vigorous stroke on the heated iron. 
While blowing the bellows he would occasionally pause 
and shake his head, as if communing with himself He 
was evidently meditating upon something of a serious 
nature. It was during one of these pauses that the door 



DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 481 

was thrown open, and a pale, trembling figure staggered 
into the shop, and, sinking at the smith's feet, faintly 
ejaculated : 

"In the name of Jesus, protect me !" 

As Bradley stooped to raise the prostrate form, three 
men entered, the foremost one exclaiming : 

" We've treed hira at last ! There he is ! Seize 
him!'' and as he spoke he pointed at the crouching 
figure. 

The others advanced to obey the order, but Bradley 
suddenly arose, seized his sledge-hammer, and bran- 
dishing it about his head as if it were a sword, ex- 
claim^ed : 

" Back ! Touch him not ; or, by the grace of God, 
I'll brain ye !" 

They hesitated, and stepped backward, not wishing to 
encounter the sturdy smith, for his countenance plainly 
told them that he meant what he said. 

" Do you give shelter to an abolitionist?" fiercely 
shouted the leader. 

" I give shelter to a weak, defenceless man," replied 
the smith. 

" He is an enemy !" vociferated the leader. 

"Of the devil!" ejaculated Bradley. 

" He is a spy ! an abolition hound !" exclaimed the 
leader, with increased vehemence ; " and we must have 
him. So I tell you, Bradley, you had better not inter- 
fere. You know that you are already suspected, and if 
you insist upon sheltering him it will confirm it." 

"Stis-pect^ed! Suspected of what?^' exclaimed the 
smith, in a firm tone, riveting his gaze upon the speaker. 

'• Why, of adhering to the North." was the reply. 

31 



482 DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 

^'Adhering to the North !" ejaculated Bradley, as he 
cast his defiant glances at the speaker. " I adhere to no 
North," he continued; "I adhere to my country- — my 
whole country — and will, so help me God ! as long as I 
have breath !"' he added, as he brought the sledge-ham- 
mer to the ground with great force. 

" You had better let us have him, Bradley, without 
further trouble. You are only risking your own neck 
by your interference." 

" Not as long as I have life to defend him," w^as the 
answer. Then pointing toward the door, he continued : 
" Leave my shop !" and as he spoke he again raised the 
sledge-hammer. 

They hesitated a moment, but the firm demeanor of 
the smith awed them into com^jliance with the order. 

" You'll regret this in the morning, Bradley," said the 
leader, as he retreated. 

" Go !" was the reply of the smith, as he pointed 
toward the door. 

Bradley followed them menacingly to the entrance of 
the shop, and watched them until they disappeared from 
sight down the road. When he turned to go back in 
the shop he was met by the fugitive, who, grasping his 
hand, exclaimed : 

*' Oh ! how shall I ever be able to thank you, Mr. 
Bradley ?" 

" This is no time for thanks, Mr. Peters, unless it is 
to the Lord ; you must fly the country, and that at 
once." 

" But my wife and children ?" 

'' Mattie and I will attend to them. But you must go 
to-night." 



DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 483 



*' To-night r 

ii 



Yes. In the morning, if not sooner, they will return 
with a large force and carry you off, and probably liang 
you on the first tree. You must leave to-night." 

'■But how?" 

'•'Mattiewill conduct you to the rendezvous of our 
friends. There is a party made up who intend to cross 
the mountains and join the Union forces in Kentucky. 
They were to start to-night. They have provisions for 
the journey, and will gladly share with 3''ou." 

At this moment a young girl entered the shop, and 
hurriedly said : 

''Father what is the trouble to-night?" Her eye 
resting upon the fugitive, she approached him, and in a 
sympathizing tone, continued : "Ah, Mr. Peters, has 
your turn come so soon ?" 

This w^as Mattie. She was a fine, rosy girl, just passed 
her eighteenth birthday, and the sole daughter of Brad- 
ley's house and heart. She was his all — his wife had 
been dead five years. He turned toward her, and in a 
mild but firm tone, said : 

" Mattie, you must conduct Mr. Peters to the rendez- 
vous immediately ; then return, and we will call at the , 
parsonage to cheer his family. Quick ! No time is to 
be lost. The bloodhounds are upon the track. Tl>ey 
have scented their prey, and will not rest until they 
have secured him. They may return much sooner 
than we expect. So haste, daughter, and God bless 
ye!" 

This was not the first time that Mattie had been called 
upon to perform such an office. She had safely conducted 
several Union men, who had been hunted from their 



484 DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 

homes, and sought shelter with her father, to the place 
designated, from whence they made their escape across 
the mountains into Kentucky. Turning to the fugitive, 
she said : 

'' Come, Mr. Peters, djo not stand upon ceremony, but 
follow me." 

She left the shop, and proceeded but a short distance 
up the road, and then turned off in a by-p^ith through a 
strip of woods, closely followed by the fugitive. A brisk 
walk of half an hour brought them to a small house that 
stood alone in a secluded spot. Here Mattie was received 
with a warm w^elcome by several men, some of whom 
were engaged in running bullets, while others were clean- 
ing their rifles and fowling-pieces. The lady of the house, 
a hale w^oman of forty, was busy stuffing the wallets of 
the men with biscuits. She greeted Mattie very kindly. 
The fugitive, who was known to two or three of the 
party, was received in a bluff, frank spirit of kindness 
by all, saying that they would make him chaplain of 
the Tennessee Union regiment, when they got to Ken- 
tucky. 

When Mattie was about to return home, two of the 
party prepared to accompany her; but she protested, 
warning them of the danger, as the enemy were doubt- 
less abroad in search of the minister. But, notwith- 
standing, they insisted, and accompanied her, until she 
reached the road, a short distance above her father's 
shop. Mattie hurried on, but was somewhat surprised 
on reaching the shop to find it vacant. She hastened 
into the house, but her father was not there. As she 
returned to go into the shop, she thought she could hear 
the noise of horses' hoofs clattering down the road. She 



DEEDS OF nEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 485 

listened, but the sound soon died away. Going inta 
the shop she blew the fire into a blaze ; then beheld that 
the things were in great confusion, and that spots of 
blood were upon the ground. She was now convinced 
that her father had been seized and carried off, but not 
without a desperate struggle on his ]3art. 

As Mattie stood gazing at the pools of blood, a wagon 
containing two j)ersons drove up, one of whom, an 
athletic young man of five-and-twenty years, got out 
and entered the shop. 

"Good-evening, Mattie! Where is your father?" he 
said. Then observing the strange demeanor of the girl, 
he continued, ''Why, Mattie, what ails you? What 
has happened ?" 

The young girl's heart was too full for her tongue to 
give utterance, and throwing herself upon the shoulder 
of the 3^oung man, she sobbingly exclaimed : 

'■^Tliey have carrie^d him off! Don't you see the 
blood ?" 

''Have they dared to lay hands upon your father? 
The infernal wretches !" 

Mattie recovered herself sufficiently to narrate the 
events of the evening. When she had finished, he ex- 
claimed : 

"Oh, that I should have lived to see the day Ihat old 
Tennessee was to be thus disgraced ! Here, Joe !" 

At this, the other person in the wagon alighted and 
entered the shop. He was a stalwart negro. 

" Joe," continued the young man, "you would like 
your freedom ?" 

" Well, Massa John, I wouldn't like much to leave 
you, but den I'se like to be a free man." 



4SG DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE' AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 

. "Joe, the white race have maintained tlieir liberty by 
their valor. Arc you willing to fight for ^ours ! Ay ! 
fight to the death !" 

*' Fse fight for yoiis any time, Massa John." 
^'I believe you, Joe. But I have desperate work on 
hand to-night, and I do not want you to engage in it 
without a prospect of reward. If I succeed, I will make 
you a free man. It is a matter of life and death — will 
you go ?" 

^' I will, massa." 

'' Then kneel down, and swear before the everliving 
God, that, if you lalter or shrink the danger, you may 
hereafter be consigned to everlasting fire !" 

"1 swear, massa," said the negro, kneeling. "An' I 
hope that Gor Almighty may strike me dead if I don't 
go wid you through fire and water, and ebery ting !" 

''I am satisfied, Joe," said his master; then turning 
to the young girl, who had been a^nute spectator of this 
singular scene, he continued: " Now, Mattie, you get in 
the wagon and I'll drive down to the parsonage, and 
you remain there with Mrs. Peters and the children 
until I bring 3'ou some intelligence of your father." 

While the sturdy old blacksmith was awaiting the 
return of his daughter, the party that he had repulsed 
returned with increased numbers and demanded the 
minister. A fierce quarrel ensued, which resulted in 
tlieir seizing the smith and carrying him off. They con- 
veyed him to a tavern half a mile distant from the shop, 
and there he was arraigned before what was termed a 
vigilance committee. The committee met in a long 
room on the ground-floor, dimly lighted by a lamp 
which stood upon a small table in front of the chairman. 



J 



DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 487 

In about half an hour after Bradley's arrival he was 
placed before the chairman for examination. The old 
man's arms were pinioned, but nevertheless he cast a 
defiant look upon those around him. 

" Bradley, this is a grave charge against you. AVhat 
have you to say?" said the chairman. 

"What authority have you to ask?" demanded the 
smith, fiercely eyeing his interrogator. 

" The authority of the people of Tennessee," was the 
reply. 

" I deny it." 

" Your denials amount to nothing. You are accused 
of harboring an abolitionist, and the penalty of that act, 
you know, is death. What have you to say to the 
charge ?" 

" I say that it is a lie, and that he Avho utters such 
charges against me is a scoundrel." 

" Simpson," said the chairman to the leader of the 
band that had captu.ed Bradle}*, and who now appeared 
with a large bandage about his head, to bind up a wound 
which was the result of a blow from the fist of Bradley. 
•' Simpson," continued the chairman, '■' what have you 
to say ?" 

The leader then stated that he had tracked the preocher 
to the blacksmith shop, and that Bradley had resisted 
his arrest, and that upon their return ho could not be 
found, and that the prisoner refused to give any infor- 
mation concerning him. 

" Do you hear that, Mr. Bradley ?" said the chairman. 

'' I do. What of it ?" was the reply. 

"Is it true?" 

"Yes." 



-ISS DF.EDS OF HEROIC COFRAGE .VXD SELF-SACRIFICE. 

"Wlieiv is the preacher?" 

" That is uoue of vour business." 

'• Mr. Bradley, this tribunal is not to be insulted with 
impunity. I again demand to know where Mr. Petei"s 
is? Will you tell?" 

-No." 

•• Mr. Bradley, it is well known that you are not only 
a member but an exhorter in Mr. Petei"s*s church, jiud 
tlieivtbiv some little excuse is to bo made for your zeal 
in defending him. He is from the North, and has long 
been suspected, and is now accused of being an abolition- 
ist and a danireivus man. You do not denv shclterinir 
him, and refusing to give him up. If you persist in this 
you must take the consequences. I ask you for the last 
time if you will inform us of his whereabouts ?" 

•'And again 1 answer no !" 

** Mr. Bradley, there is also another serious charge 
afi.'iunst vou, and vour conduct in this instance confirms 
it. You are accused of giving comfort to the enemies 
of your country. What have you to say to that ?" 

** I say it is fiilse, and that ho who makes it is a 
villain." 

*• I accuse him with being a tnutor, aiding the cause 
of the Union." said Simpson. 

** If my adherence to the Union merits for me the 
name of traitor, then I am proud of it. I have been for 
tlie Union — I am still for the Union — and will be for the 
Union as long as life lasts." 

At these words the chairman clutched a pistol that 
lay upon the table before him. luid the bright blade of 
Simpson's Bowie knife glittered near Bradley's breast ; 
but before he could m;\ke the fatal plunge, a switV 



DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 489 

winged messenger of death laid him dead at the leet of 
his intended vietim ; Avhile at the same instant another 
plunged into the heart of the ehairman, and lie fell for- 
ward over the table, extinguishing the lights, and 
leaving all in darkness. Confusion reigned. The in- 
mates of the room were panic-stricken. In the midst 
of the consternation a iirm hand rested upon Bradley's 
shoulder; his bonds were severed, and he hurried out 
of the open window. He was again a free num, but was 
hastened forward into the woods at the back of the 
tavern, and through them to a road a quarter of a mile 
distant, then into a wagon, and driven rapidly oiV. In 
half an hour the smith made one of the jiarty at the 
rendezvous that was to start at midnight across the 
mountnins. 

"• John," said the smith, as he grasped the hand of his 
rescuer, while his eyes glistened, and a tear coursed down 

his furrowed cheek, '' I should like to see Mattie befcu-e 

I?' 
go. 

'' You shall," was the reply. 

In another hour the blacksmith clasped his daughter 
to his bosom. 

It was an affecting scene — there, in that lone house 
in the wilderness, surrounded b}- men who had been, 
driven from their homes for their attachment to the 
principles for which their patriot fathers fought and bled 
— the sturdy old smith, a type of the heroes of other 
da^^s, pressing his daughter to his breast, while the tears 
coursed down his furrowed cheek. He felt that perhaps 
it was to be his last embrace ; for his resolute heart had 
resolved to sacrifice his all upon the altar of his country, 
and lie could no lonirer watch over the safetv. of his 



490 DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 

only child. Was she to be left to the mercy of tlie par- 
ricidal wretches who were attempting to destroy the 
country that had given them birth, nursed their infancy, 
and ojDened a wide field for them to display the abilities 
with which nature had endowed them ? 

"Mr. Bradley," said his rescuer, after a short pause, 
" as you leave the State it will be necessary, in these 
troublous times, for Mattie to have a protector, and I 
have thought that our marriage had better take place 
to-night." 

" Well, John," he said, as he relinquished his embrace 
and gazed with a fond look at her who was so dear to 
him, •'' I shall not object, if Mattie is willing." 

'' Oh ! we arranged that as we came along," replied 
the young man. 

Mattie blushed, but said nothing. 

In a short time the hunted-down minister was called 
upon to perform a marriage service in that lone house. 
It was an impressive scene. Yet no diamonds glittered 
upon the neck of the bride ; no pearls looped up her 
tresses ; but a pure love glowed within her heart as she 
gave utterance to a vow which was registered in heaven. 

Bradley, soon after the ceremony, bade his daughter 
and her husband an affectionate farewell, and set out 
with his friends to join others who had been driven 
from their homes, and were now rallying under the old 
flag to fight for the Union, and, as they said, " Redeem 
old Tennessee !" 



John Davis the Heroic Sailor. — When the record 
of the war comes to be written, not the least interesting 



DEEDS OF HEROIC CO UK AGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 491 

feature of it will be the lie.roic deeds of the humble men 
who compose the rank and file of the army and navy. 
Instances of individual heroism and self-sacrifice are 
already presenting themselves in abundance, and when 
the conflict is happily ended, will furnish a rich harvest 
of materials for the annalist and historian. One of the 
most conspicuous of these in any chronicle of the war, 
must be the case of the gallant tar, John Davis, whose 
courage in the attack on Elizabeth City, N. C, was made 
the subject of special mention by his immediate com- 
mander and by Commodore Goldsborough, who thus 
united to make manifest the bond of true chivalry, 
which binds together all brave w^n, however widely 
seperated their station. The following is the story of 
this brave sailor : — 

*' Lieutenant J. C. Chapin, commanding United States 
steamer " Valley City," off Roanoke Island, waiting to 
Commodore Goldsborough, noticed a magnanimous act 
of bravery by John Davis, gunner's mate on board his 
vessel, at the taking of Elizabeth City. Ho says John 
Davis was at his station during the action, in the mag- 
azine, issuing powder, when a shell from the enemy's 
battery penetrated into the magazine, and exploded out- 
side of it. lie threw himself over a barrel of powder, 
protecting it with his own body from the fire, while at 
the same time passing out the powder for the guns. 

'' Commodore Goldsborough, in transmitting this let- 
ter to the Navy Department, say^s : ' It affords me infi- 
nite pleasure to forward this communication to the Navy 
Department, to whose especial consideration I bog leave 
to recommend the gallant and noble sailor alluded to ;' 
and he adds, in a postscript, ' Davis actually seated him- 



492 DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 

self on the barrel, the top being out, and in this position 
he remained until the flames were extinguished.'" 

The Navy Department promptly rewarded him. lie 
was a gunner's mate, receiving a salary of twenty-five 
dollars per month or three hundred dollars per year. 
The evidence of his bravery was received at the Navy 
Department, and on the next day Secretary Welles 
appointed him a gunner, an office which carries with it 
a salary of one thousand dollars per year, and is a life 
appointment, the salary increasing by length of service 
to one thousand four hundred and fifty dollars, and the 
medal of honor was conferred upon him, by order of 
Congress. 



DKIYING HOIviE THE COWS. 



BY MISS KATK P. OSGOOD. 



Out of the clover and blue-eyed grass 
He turned them into the river-lane ; 
One after another he let them pass, 

Then fastened the meadow bars again. 

Under the willows, and over the hill, 
He patiently followed their sober pace ; 

The merry whistle for once Avas still, 

And something shadowed the sunn}^ face. 

Only a boy ! and his iather had said 
He never could let his youngest go : 

Two alread}'^ were lying dead 

Under the feet of the trampling foe. 

But after the evening work was done. 
And the frogs were loud in the meadow-swamp, 

Over his shoulder he slung his gun 
And stealthily followed the foot-path damp. 



DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 493 

Across the clover, and through the wheat, 

with resolute heart and purpose grim, 
Though cold wsas the dew on his hurrying feet, 

And the blind bat's flitting startled him. 

Thrice since then had the lanes been white, 
And the orchards sweet with apple-bloom ; 

And now, when the cows came back at night, 
The feeble father drove them home. 

For news had come to the lonely farm 

That three were lying where two had lain ; 

And the old man's tremulous, palsied arm 
Could never lean on a sou's again. 

The summer day grew cool and late, 

He went for the cows when the work was done ; 

But down the lane, as he opened the gate, 
He saw them coming one by one : 

Brindle, Ebony, Speckle, and Bess, 

Shaking their horns in the evening wind ; 

Cropping the butter-cups out of the grass — 
But who was it following close behind ? 

Loosely swung in the idle air 

The empty sleeve of army blue ; 
And worn and pale, from the crisping hair. 

Looked out a face that the father knew. 

For Southern prisons will sometimes yawn. 

And yield their dead unto life again ; 
And the da}^ that comes with a cloudy dawn 

In golden glory at last may wane. 

The great tears sprang to their meeting eyes ; 

For the heart must speak when the lips are dumb: 
And under the silent evening skies 

Together thc}^ followed the cattle home. 



494 DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 



THE LOYALTY OF A CHARLESTON WOMAN. 

Wide spread as was the heresy of secession, and boast- 
ful as the rebels were that the entire population of most 
of the Southern States were radicallv and thoroughly 
secessionists, there was, in fact, no part of the South in 
which there were not earnest and devoted friends of 
freedom and Union among the whites. The negroes 
were almost without exception loyal. Even Charleston, 
hotbed of treason as it was, had its loyal league of Union 
men and women, who, at the peril of liberty and life, 
performed acts of kindness to Union prisoners confined 
there,' aided them in escaping, and gave them shelter, 
food, and clothing, till they could get away from the 
city. Captain W. H. Telford, of the Fiftieth Pennsyl- 
vania Volunteers, escaped from Roper Hospital Prison, 
in Charleston, and was for five weeks concealed by these 
devoted Unionists. He relates an incident which oc- 
curred to one of the party who escaped with him, which 
shows the great peril to which the members of the league 
sometimes subjected themselves to serve the cause they 
loved. It should be premised that some of the male 
members of the league had wives who were very bitter 
rebels, and some of the ladies who were loyal had hus- 
bands who were actively engaged in the rebel cause. 

The escaped prisoners had remained for several days 
closely concealed by a trusty member of the league, in 
consequence of the excitement in the city over the re- 
port that Yankee prisoners were being harbored by some 
of the inhabitants, a report which rendered it unsafe for 



DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 495 

them to be seen in the streets, even in disguise. One 
evening, however, one of the party ventured to call 
upon one of the loyal ladies who had been so kind to 
them, but whose husband was a bitter rebel, engaged in 
blockade running, and was at that time away. 

While enjoying the pleasant hours of the evening with 
his loyal friend steps were heard in the front yard, and 
soon the voice of the husband was heard in the hall. 
There was no opportunity of escape, and the only thing 
that could be done was to hide and trust to luck. But 
where ? was another difficult question. 

A closet in the lady's bedroom was the only refuge. 

Mrs. hurried him into it, and was just fastening 

the door when her husband stood at the bedroom door, 
and trying it found it locked. She sprung to open it, 
and encountered her liege lord in a towering passion, 
who demanded to know the cause of this strange pro- 
ceeding. 

He at once accused her of infidelity, of receiving visits 
from gentlemen in his absence, and said, further, that 
he had heard one in the house when he came in, and he 
wanted to know the whole truth of the matter. 

She could only reply, in tears, that she was true to 
him ; that all the visits she had ever received were only 
friendly ones, and she begged him not to condemn her 
but to believe what she told him. 

He was dissatisfied with this explanation, and de- 
manded what had become of the man who was there 
when he came in. His wife made no reply, and he 
began to search the room, when, oil, horrible! in the 
closet he found a man full dressed in rebel uniform. 

" You villain ! what are you here for ? Guilty, both 



496 DEEDS OF IIEKOIC COURAGE AXD SELF-SACRIFICE. 

of you ; bring me my pistol and I will punish the guilty 
pair. Police ! help !" shouted the husband. 

" Don't, my dear husband, kill him, for he is not 
guilty ; let him go." 

'' Confess all, or I will kill 3'ou both," said the enraged 
husband. 

''As God lives, we are innocent of any crime," pleaded 
the suffering wife. 

"Away with such talk, 3-ou guilty wretches. I will 
not hear it," said the now infuriated husband, as he 
rushed out of the room to get his pistol, while the 
Unionist leaped out of the first window and made good 
his escape. How the affliir ended Captain Telford never 
learned, as he left the city shortly after, and none of 
the escaped prisoners were willing to meet the enraged 
blockade runner again, or subject his wife to so severe a 
trial. Her loyalty cost a price. 



A Wounded Color Bearer. — A touching incident in 
the great battle of Gettj sburg will show how courage 
manifests itself The color sergeant of the Sixteenth 
Vermont fell mortally wounded. At once a dozen men 
rushed forward. The poor wounded sergeant grasped 
the staff with both his clenched hands, his eyes were 
already dimmed with death ; he could not see who it 
was that tried to wrest his charge from him. ''Are you 
friends or enemies ?" he cried out. " We are friends," 
was the reply, " give us the colors." '• Then, friends," 
said he, " I am mortally wounded ; let me hold up the 
jflag till I die" — and so saying, he fell back — dead. 
Surely, a nobler soldier than this poor fellow never 
lived. 



DEEDS OP HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 497 

COLONEL INNIS, 

OR " WE don't surrender MUCH." 

Lavergne, Tennessee, a mere hamlet, but a position 
of great strategic importance, between Nashville and 
Murfreesboro, Tennessee, had been garrisoned by a 
small Union force early in December, 1862. When 
General Rosecrans commenced his movement from 
Nashville to Murfreesboro, in the latter part of that 
month, the movement which culminated in the battle 
of Stone river, it was absolutely essential that Lavergne 
should be held, yet the general could spare but a small 
force for it, and he knew that the rebel cavalry general, 
Wheeler, would attack it with one greatly superior. 
In this emergency he knew of no one in whose bravery 
and unflinching resolution to hold the position againsi 
heavy odds he could so fully rely as Colonel William P. 
Lmis of the First Michigan Engineers. Innis's regiment 
consisted of but three hundred and eight-nine men, and 
Wheeler would attack with three thousand cavaky and 
two field pieces, while Innis had no artillery and only 
some rudely extemporized breastworks. " Edmund 
Kirke" (Mr. J. R. Gilmore) tells the story of th(; 
battle, as he heard it from both sides, as follows : 

" Colonel Innis," said General Rosecrans, " will you 
hold Lavergne ?" 
" I'll try, general." 
" I ask if you will do it !" exclaimed the laconic 



general. 



32 



498 DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 

" I WILL," quietly responded the colonel, and he kept 
his word. 

Just as the New Year's sun was sending its first 
greeting to the little band that crouched there behind 
the wagons, the head of the rebel column emerged from 
the woods which skirt the southern side of the town, 
and Captain Firman, riding forward to the flims}- breast- 
w^ork, cried out: 

*' General Wheeler demands an instant and uncondi- 
tional surrender." 

"Give General Wheeler my compliments, and tell 
him we don't surrender much," came back to him from 
behind the brush-heaps. 

Mounting then his Kentucky roan,, the heroic colonel 
rode slowly around the rude intrenchment. ^' Boys," 
he said, " they are three thousand — have you said your 
prayers ?" 

'' We are ready, colonel. Let them come on !" an- 
swered the brave Michigan men. 

And they did come on ! 

''Six times we swept down on them," said Captain 
Firman to me, '*' and six times I rode up with a flag, and 
summoned them to surrender ; but each time Innis sent 
back the message, varied^ now and then, with an adjec- 
tive, ' We don't surrender much.' He sat his horse 
during the first charges, as if on dress parade; but at 
the third fire I saw him 2:0 down. I thouaiit we had 
winged him. but when we charged again, there he sat 
as cool as if the thermometer had been at zero. One 
of our men took deliberate aim, and again he went 
down; but when I rode up the fifth time and shouted, 
• We" 11 not summon you again — surrender at once !' it 



DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AJTD SELF-SACRIFICE. 499 

was Innis who yelled out, ' Fray don't, for we dont sur- 
render much.' At the seventh charge I was wounded, 
and the general sent another officer with the summons. 
Your people halted him a few hundred yards from the 
breastwork, and an officer, in a cavahy man's overcoat, 
came out to meet him. [' They had killed my two 
horses,' said Colonel Innis to me afterward, ' and I was 
afraid they would singe my uniform — the fire was rather 
hot — so I covered it.'] 

"'What is your rank, sir?' demanded the Union 
officer. 

" ' Major, sir.' 

" ' Go back and tell General Wheeler that he insults 
me by sending one of your rank to treat with one of 
mine. Tell him, too, I have not come here to surren- 
der. I shall fire on the next flag.' 

''It was Innis, and by that ruse he made us believe 
he had received reinforcements. Thinking it was so, 
we drew off, and the next day Innis sent Wheeler word 
by a prisoner, that he had whipped us with three hun- 
dred and eighty-nine men !" 



THE BALLAD OF ISHMAEL DAY. 

One summer morning a daring band 

Of rebek rode into Maryland — 

Over the prosperous, peaceful farms 

Sending terror and strange alarms, 

The clatter of hoofs and the clang of arms. 



500 DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 

Presli from the South, where the hungry pine, 
They ate like Pharaoh's starving kine ; 

They swept the land like devouring surge, 
And left their path, to its furthest verge, 
Bare as the track of the locust-scourge. 

"The rebels are coming!" far and near 

Rang the tidings of dread and fear ; 

Some paled, and cowered, and sought to hide — 
Some stood erect in their fearless pride — 
And women shuddered and children cried. 

But others — vipers in human form. 
Stinging the bosom that kept them warm — 
Welcomed with triumph the thievish band, 
Hurried to offer the friendly hand, 
As the rebels rode into Maryland : 

Made them merry with food and wine, 
Clad them in garments rich and fine, 

For rags and hunger to make amends ; 
Flattered them, praised them, with selfish ends ; 
" Leave us scathless, for we are friends !" 

Could traitors trust to a traitor ? No ! 

Little they favored friend or foe, 

But gathered the cattle the farms across, 
Flinging back, with a scornful toss — 
" If ye a.Te friends ye can bear the loss !" 

Flushed with triumph, and wine, and prey. 
They neared the dwelling of Ishmael Day ; 
A sturdy veteran, gray and old, 
With heart of a patriot, firm and bold. 
Strong and steadfast — unbribed, unsold. 

And Ishmael Day, his brave head bare, 
His white locks tossed by the morning air. 
Fearless of danger, or death, or scare, 
Went out to raise, by the farm yard bars, 
The dear old flag of the Stripes and Stars. 



i 



DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 501 

Proudly, steadily up it flew, 

Gorgeous with crimson and white and blue I 
His withered hand, as he shook it freer, 
May have trembled, but not with fear, 
While, shouting, the rebels drew more near. 

"Halt!^'' — They had seen the hated sign 

Floating free from old Ishmael's line — 

" Lower that rag !" was their wrathful cry, 
"Never !" rung Ishmael Day's reply; 
" Fire, if it please you — I can but die !" 

One, with a loud, defiant laugh. 

Left his comrades and neared the staff. 

"Down!"''' — came the fearless patriot's cry — 

" Dare to lower that flag, and die ! 

One must bleed for it — you or 1 1" 

But caring not for the stern command, 

He drew the halliards with daring hand ; 
Ping ! went the rifle-ball — down he came 
Under the flag he had tried to shame — 
Old Ishmael Day took careful aim ! 

Seventy winters and three had shed 

Their snowy glories on Ishmael's head ; 

But though cheeks may wither and locks grow gray, 
His fame shall be fresh and young alway — 
Honor be to old Ishmael Day ! 



OLD BURNS, THE HERO OF GETTYSBURG. 

In the town of Gettysburg lives an old couple by the 
name of Burns. The old man was in the war of 1812, 
and is now nearly seventy years of age, yet the frosts 



502 DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 

of many winter have not chilled his patriotism or dimin- 
ished his love for the old flag under which he fought in 
his early days. When the rebels invaded the beautiful 
Cumberland valley, and were marching on Gettysburg, 
Old Burns concluded that it was thne for every loyal 
man, young or old, to be up and doing all in his power 
to beat back the rebel foe, and if possible, give them a 
quiet resting-place beneath the sod they were polluting 
with their unhallowed feet. Taking down an old state 
musket he had in his house, he commenced running 
bullets. The old lady, seeing him engaged in this work, 
inquired what in the world he was going to do ? ''Ah !" 
was the reply, *' I thought some of the boys might want 
the old gun, and I am getting it ready for them." The 
rebels came on. The old man kept on the lookout until 
he saw the stars and stripes coming in, carried by our 
brave boys. This was more than he could stand ; his 
patriotism got the better of his age and infirmity, seizing 
his musket, he started out, the old lady called after him : 
'' Burns, where are you going?" " Oh !" was the rej^ly, 
" I am going out to see what is going on." He immedi- 
atety went to a Wisconsin regiment and asked if they 
would take him in. They told him they would, and 
gave him three rousing cheers. The old musket was 
soon thrown aside and a first-rate rifle given him. and 
twenty-five rounds of cartridges. 

The engagement between the two armies soon came 
on, and the old man fired eighteen of his twenty-five 
rounds, and says he killed three rebs to his certain 
knowledge. Our forces were compelled to fall back, 
leaving the dead and wounded on the field, and our 
hero, having three wounds, was left among the rest. 



DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 503 

There he lay in citizen's clothing, and knowing that if 
the enemy found him in that condition death would be 
his portion, so he concluded to try strategy as his only 
hope. Soon the rebels came up, and approached him, 
saying : '' Old man, what are you doing here ?" "I am 
lying here wounded, as you see," he replied. " Well, 
but what business have you to be here ? and who wounded 
you, our troops or yours ?" " I don't know who wounded 
me, I only know that I am womided and in a bad fix." 
''Well, what was you doing here — what was your busi- 
ness ?" '' If you will hear my story, I will tell you. 
My old woman's health is very poor, and I was over 
across the country to get a girl to help her, and ooming 
back, before I knew where I was I had got right into 
this fix and here I am." "Where do you live?" in- 
quired the rebels. " Over in town, in such a small 
house." They then picked him up, and carried him 
home and left him. But they soon returned, as if sus- 
pecting he had been lying to them, and made him answer 
a great many questions ; but he stuck to his old story, 
and failing to learn any thing more they left him for 
good. He says he shall always feel indebted to some of 
his copperhead neighbors for the last call, for he believes 
some one had informed them of him. Soon after they 
left a bullet came into his room and struck into Ihe wall 
six inches above where he lay on the sofa. His wounds 
proved to be only flesh wounds, from which he recovered 
with his patriotism not a whit abated. 



Coolness and Fortitude of a Union Soldier. — An 
instance of endurance and patience occurred at the hos- 



504 DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 

pital on the right wmg, during the fighting at Fort 
Donelson, Tennessee. The Union columns having been 
forced back, the hospital, which was a little up from the 
road, had come within range of the rebels' fire, and was 
fast becoming an unpleasant position, but no damage 
was done to it. Just about this time a poor fellow 
came sauntering leisurely along, with the lower part of 
his arm dangling from the part above the elbow, it 
having been struck with a grape-shot. Meeting the 
surgeon in the house, who was busily attending to other 
wounded, he inquired how long it would be before he 
could attend to him, and was told in a few minutes. 
"All right," said the wounded man, and then walked 
outside and watched the progress of the battle for a 
short time, and then returned and waited the surgeon's 
opportunity to attend to him. The arm was amputated 
without a murmur from the unfortunate man. After 
the stump was bound up, the young man put his good 
hand into his pocket, and took out a piece of tobacco, 
from which he took a chew, then walking over to the 
fire, he leaned his well arm against tlie mantle-piece, 
and rested his head against his arm, and kept squirting 
tobacco juice into the fire, whilst his eyes were cast into 
the flames, all with the most astonishing composure, as 
though he was indulging in some pleasant reverie. He 
remained in this position for some time, and then 
walked off and went out of sight near where the fight- 
ing was going on. 



DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 505 



CONDUCT OF THE COLORED TROOPS. 

There has been much dispute and many exaggera- 
tions and misstatements in relation to the efficiency of 
the colored troops in the war. While one party have 
contended that they were all and always heroes, another 
have insisted that " Niggers wouldn't fight — they 
couldn't be made to — they had seen too much of them 
to believe that they wouldn't run at the very first sight 
of a hostile white man," etc. 

Both were in the wrong. Secretary Stanton, in a 
review of the whole course of the war, asserts that there 
has been no perceptible difierence between the conduct 
of the colored and the white troops ; both have often 
displayed extraordinary bravery at some times, and at 
others, under incompetent leaders, have been afiected 
by panic, and retreated, and in proportion to theii 
numbers, one race have acted thus as much as the 
other. 

This testimony is remarkably creditable to the negroes. 
When we reflect that the greater part of the colored 
troops had been field hands, slaves, subject to the irre- 
sponsible will of their masters, till within a few weeks, 
and, in many instances, a few days of their entering the 
service, that they were almost entirely uneducated, and 
had no previous military drill or knowledge, it is aston- 
ishing that they should have done so well. There was, 
indeed, a material difference between the intelligent 
free negro regiments of the North, and those composed 
of freedmen recently emancipated in the South, just as 



50G DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 

there was a difference between some of the crack New 
England or New York regiments, composed of highly 
intelligent men, men whose bayonets could think, and 
the more stolid and less intellectual regiments of some 
of the rural districts, in which one third or one half 
were compelled to sign their names to the roll with a 
cross. 

There were not wanting, however, instances where 
individual companies and regiments of the colored 
troops covered themselves with glory. It is the testi- 
mony of officers, not specially friendly to the negro, 
that no fmer regiments went into battle in any part of 
the Union than the Fifty-fourth and Fifty-fifth Massa- 
chusetts; and their charge at Fort Wagner Avill be 
reckoned among the finest passages at arms in history. 
Of the former of these regiments, in this terrible and 
bloody assault, an e3^e-witness (R. S. Davis, Esq.) says : 
'' Who fight more valiantly than the Fifty-fourth Mas- 
sachusetts, as they struggle in the midst of this darkness 
and death to vindicate their race ? They lead the 
advance, and follow without faltering the brave Shaw, 
as he ascends the wall of the fort. The parapet is 
reached, and their lines melt away before the terrible 
fire of the enemy ; but they fight on, though the voice 
of their colonel is heard no more, and their officers have 
fallen in the death struggle. Their color sergeant is 
severely wounded in the thigh, but falling upon his 
knees, he plants the flag upon the parapet, and lying 
down holds the staff firmly in his hands. Noble Car- 
ney ! Half an hour the conflict has been raging, yet 
the storming column has been unable to capture the 
fort. The supporting column (of which the Fifty-fifth 



DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 507 

Massachusetts formed a part) comes up, and the battle 
rages more fiercely. What a work of death is here ! 
The eastern angle of the fort is gained, and held by 
three hundred brave souls against the onsets of a superior 
enemy for over two hours. Who shall tell the history 
of these hours, with their deeds of valor more heroic 
than the thought of man can compass ? It will never 
be written ; for the brave and good perished unseen, and 
the gathering darkness of death and night covered the 
wounds of heroes. In the stronghold of the enemy the 
patriot died, God his companion, the storm of battle his 
death-knell. '''• ^•'' * '*' * The assault is repulsed. 
The small band of heroes who have fought so long and 
so earnestly to drive the rebels from the fort, retire 
from Wagner, and pass out of range over the heaps of 
their dead comrades. For nearly three long hours they 
have fought and fought in vain ; Wagner cannot be car- 
ried by assault. As our forces retire. Sergeant Carney, 
who has kept the colors of his regiment flying upon the 
parapet of Wagner during the entire conflict, is seen 
creeping along on one knee, still holding up the flag, 
and only yielding his sacred trust upon finding an oflicer 
of his regiment. As he enters the field hospital, where 
his wounded comrades are being brought in, they cheer 
him and the colors. Though nearly exhausted with 
the loss of blood, he says, ^Boys, the old flag never 
touched the ground.' " 

In the disastrous fight near Guntown, Mississippi, 
when the irresolution and mismanagement of the 
Union commander, a mismanagement generally attri- 
buted to intoxication, resulted in one of the most dis- 
graceful defeats and retreats in the annals of the war, it 



508 DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 

was the half drilled colored troops, most of them under 
fire for the first time, who, when the white troops were 
completely demoralized and panic-stricken by the failure 
of their commander, fought with the utmost desperation, 
and kept back the rebels until their white comrades and 
a portion of the train could make good their escape. 
One of the ammunition wagons was near them, and the 
brave fellows, with the intention of maintaining their 
resistance to the last, filled the breasts of their shirts 
with cartridges, and fired away till the cartridges had 
become so moist with perspiration that they could 
not be fired. But they accomplished their object, and 
having held the rebels at bay for some hours they 
finally retreated, bringing up the rear of the Union 
forces. 

In the Virginia campaign of 1864, " Burnside's 
Smoked Yankees," as they were called in the Army of 
the Potomac, fought with a stubbornness and tenacity 
which was surpassed by no troops in the army. Know- 
ing that their doom was sealed if they were captured 
(for murder, or a slavery worse than death, was the fate 
reserved by the rebels for the colored troops), they 
fought to the death, and often accomplished more than 
their white comrades. In the capture of the outer line 
of forts around Petersburg they were particularly active 
and efficient. It is related, in regard to their assault on 
one of these, that having carried it, and being with some 
difficulty restrained from avenging the massacre of Fort 
Pillow on the rebel garrison, a colored lieutenant, who 
was just then the senior officer in command, demanded 
the surrender of the fort from the rebel commander. 
The latter, a pompous Virginian, replied, that " he would 



1 



DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 509 

1)6 d — d if he would surrender as a prisoner to a nigger ;" 
the colored lieutenant remonstrated, and urged his sur- 
render, but the Virginian, probably hoping that a white 
officer would be summoned to receive his surrender, 
refused still more peremptorily. " Very well," said the 
negro officer, " I have offered you your life, and you 
wont have it ; you may stay here ;" and seizing a mus- 
ket from the hands of one of his men he pinned the 
rebel officer to the earth with the bayonet. 

The most remarkable acts of heroism related of the 
colored troops, however, were those which occured at 
Port Hudson. At the time of the siege of that strong- 
hold, there were but few colored troops in the army. 
Two or three regiments had been raised in New Orleans, 
and had joined General Banks' army before Port Hudson. 
Twice, it will be recollected, General Banks attempted 
to carry the rebel fortress by assault. On the second 
occasion, June 14, 1863, General H. E. Paine, leading 
his troops, was severely wounded in the leg, while far 
in advance, and left upon the ground, while his troops 
were driven back several hundred yards by the constant 
and deadly fire of the enemy, who swept the whole field 
with their artillery. It was of course of great importance 
to bring the general off the field, or if this should prove 
impossible, to furnish him with water and food, and to 
stanch the bleeding from his wound. His adjutant-gene- 
ral called for volunteers to go to his relief and bring 
him off, if possible ; but the men looked upon the wide 
plain, swept with a constant artillery fire under which 
nothing could live, and though the adjutant-general 
offered large rewards not a man could be found willing 
to risk the almost inevitable death which would follow 



610 DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND §ELF-SACRIFIGE. 

the attempt. In vain the officer plead and urged ; the 
men could not be induced to take the risk. 

But now stepped forward a little squad of colored men 
from the "Corps d'Afrique," as General Banks had 
named them, and one of them acting as spokesman for 
the rest said to the adjutant: " We'se been thinking, sar, 
dat dere's got to be a good many killed in this war, 'fore 
our people can get deir freedom, and p'raps it may as 
well be we as anybody else ; so if you please, sar, we'll 
go after the general." The adjutant-general, as may be 
supposed, readily accepted their offer, and there being 
sixteen of the volunteers, they formed into fours, and 
the first squad, with a stretcher and supplies of water, 
etc., moved off steadily across that fire-swept plain. The 
first fifty yards were hardly passed when one of the four 
was struck down ; his companions did not stop, but pressed 
forward, when another and another, and finally the fourth 
fell. Without uttering a word or hesitating a moment, 
the second squad of four stepped out, similarly equipped, 
to traverse the field of death. They, too, were all smit- 
ten down, though they had approached nearer to the 
general than the first. Instantly and without a moment's 
delay, a third squad of four went forward on the perilous 
journey. Two of these fell wounded, but the other two 
reached the general, and though unable to bring him off, 
allayed his thrist, and remained near him amid the fiery 
hail till evening, when he was carried to the bivouac of 
the troops. These last two had also been wounded, but 
not severely. We think it is no impeachment of the 
courage of the white troops to say that in no battle of 
the war have they ever exhibited a cool and deliberate 
courage surpassing this. 



DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 511 



GENERAL RANSOM, 

IN THE ASSAULT ON VICKSBURG. 

The army has lost no braver or nobler officer, in all 
that constitutes soldierly character and ability, than 
General T. E. G. Ransom. Like the French Chevalier 
Bayard, he was alike ^^ sans peur et sans reproche," 
without fear and without re|)roach. Numerous in- 
stances are recorded of his calm and magnificent 
courage; one of the most remarkable is an incident 
appertaining to the assault on Vicksburg, on the 22d of 
May, 1863. His brigade formed a part of the charging 
column that day, and as it advanced toward the rebel 
breastworks a storm of grape and canister swept through 
it from an enfilading battery, killing or wounding many 
officers, and for an instant checking the whole move- 
ment. Perceiving that the men wavered, General Ran- 
som seized the colors of a regiment, and rushing to the 
front, waved them over his head, and shouted, " For- 
ward, men! We must and will go into that fort. 
Who will follow me ?" Inspirited by this action, the 
column rallied about its intrepid leader, and gained the 
ditch in front of the fort. But the strength of the posi- 
tion and the commanding fire of the enemy satisfied 
him that the assault would prove only a useless sacri- 
fice of life. Then, placing himself at a conspicuous 
point, he addressed his men in a loud, clear voice, as 
follows : " Men of the second brigade ! we cannot main- 
tain this position. You must retire to the cover of that 



512 DEEDS OF HEROIC COURAGE AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 

ravine, one regiment at a time." He then announced 
the order of retiring, regiment by regiment, and added : 
" The first man who runs or goes beyond that ravine, 
shall be shot. I will stand here, and see how you do it." 
And there, in full range of the enemy's fire, he mounted 
a stump, from which he could see his entire command, 
folded his arms, and watched the movement, himself the 
most exposed man of the whole brigade. A captain of 
the Seventy-second Illinois, who had been intimate 
with Ransom before the war, crawled on his hands 
and knees to the foot of the stump, and begged 
the general to leave a position of so much danger. 
Turning his flashing eyes upon the captain for an 
instant. Ransom said, with an emphasis that com- 
manded obedience, '^Silencer and remained where he 
was until the movement was accomplished. 

At the battle of Sabine crossroads, where, as usual, he 
was always in the thickest of the fight, inspiriting his 
men by his presence, he was severely wounded in the 
left knee. On the day following the battle four surgeons 
examined the wound at Pleasant Hill, and were divided 
in their opinion — two being in favor of amputation 
while the other two deemed it unnecessary. The gen- 
eral, who was an interested listener to the conversation, 
raised himself on his couch and said : ^' Well, gentle- 
men, as the house is equally divided on this subject, I 
will, as chairman of the meeting, decide the question. 
I shall retain the wounded leg, loss included." 



THE END. 



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